


Why did the mushroom get invited to the party?

by futiledev



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Chatting & Messaging, Fluff, Hiking, Its just silly really, Light Angst, M/M, Naturalist Gon, Not a chat-fic but some chapters have instant messages, Public transit is cool, Runaway Killua, They vibe in the woods, Vaguely slow burn, cw: suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futiledev/pseuds/futiledev
Summary: Because he was a fun guy!Killua is just trying to get out of dodge but he meets someone on the bus that he can't help but stick around with.Gon invites him to tag along on his ecological survey, but Killua has no idea what he’s in for when he accepts.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 97
Kudos: 219





	1. Puffball

The station’s lights were too bright and too dim at the same time; if you cared to listen, you could hear their tired buzz. In fact, once you focused on it, it was all you could hear. A few people waited on benches against the walls. Some staff members quietly helped customers. This peaceful almost-silence seemed to last forever and it did until the doors slammed open.

A youthful old man—no, a young man with hair bleached to the limit—stood at the entrance,  
looking extremely out of place. He only had a small backpack, but he was out of breath and slightly sweaty. He looked back and forth across the station, gripping the straps of his backpack with tight fists.

With more confidence, he stepped further into the building. When the staff at the counter called “next!”, he rudely elbowed his way to the front of a line of perplexed people (who were too tired to object).

The lady behind the counter warily looked him over, opening her mouth to tell him to go to the back of the line—

“I need a ticket for whatever is leaving as soon as possible!” he demanded, leaning forward with both hands on the counter.

She stared at him, unimpressed.

He looked away for a beat before weakly adding “…please?”

Relenting, she sighed to herself before making the reasonable suggestion of taking the bus heading east in a little under an hour. He grimaced and clarified his mission of needing a bus leaving “immediately”. To make his point, he whipped out his wallet and began aggressively shaking out bills and coins from it.

Satisfied with the pile of change, he maintained eye contact as he asked, “How much to get out of this town _right_ now?”

Shrugging, she clicked away at a keyboard, taking down what little information he provided. His fingers tapped away on the counter, watching as she finally printed out a ticket and receipt. Barely glancing at the receipt, he pushed the pile towards her and snatched up the ticket. Holding it in his hand like a baton in a relay, he shot off to the gate. The lady couldn’t help but smile as she called for the next customer.

Outside, he flashed the ticket victoriously to the bus driver who raised his eyebrows but waved him on. At last, he got onto the bus. He stopped at the top of the stairs, discovering that this particular route was quite popular.

He hadn’t bothered to check where this bus was going, but it was obvious that lots of people wanted to go there, even at this strange hour. As he squinted down the rows of seats, other passengers moved their bags to the seat beside them, pretended to suddenly fall asleep, or simply avoided eye contact.

Scowling, he considered the situation; when it comes down to it, if he wanted to sit down, these losers wouldn’t be able to stop him. He had made it this far! So, he marched down the aisle, perusing the available seats. He walked past the old man who was genuinely asleep, loudly snoring, and a bunch of snobby ladies.

He was compiling a list in his head, ranking who would be the least annoying to deal with, when he noticed a man about his age sitting alone towards the back of the bus. He was sitting crosslegged and appeared to be scribbling something in a small, worn journal. Without any further consideration, he approached the stranger and impishly waved a hand in his face to get his attention.

He startled, comically jumping out of the seat and entirely dropping the book. After scrambling to retrieve it from the floor, he was about to dust it off and go back to whatever he had been doing, when he remembered he had company. Sheepish, he closed his book with a gentle pat and turned to the squinting man in the aisle. He expected to be asked if the seat was free, but instead—

“How old are you?”

“Uh… I just turned 20?”

At that, he removed his backpack and sat down before extending a hand, stating, “I’m Killua.” The other blinked twice before completing the handshake.

“Well Killua… yes, you can sit in that seat!” the other responded, with a slight smile.

“Why would I need _your_ permission?!”

At this, the other laughed and shrugged. “I’m not sure. Well, I’m Gon.”

Killua nodded and set his backpack on the floor. Not even 2 minutes later, the bus driver closed the doors and began pulling all sorts of levers in the driver’s seat. They made a brief announcement about safety and arrival times before shutting off the overhead lights of the bus. As the bus backed out of the lot, Killua was finally able to breathe.

“Hey Killua,” Gon suddenly whispered.

Killua turned his head towards the silhouette over the window. He had difficulty focusing his eyes on Gon’s expression with the streaks of passing streetlights outside. The bus was making good progress through the city. The evening sky blended with the scenery he might never see again. He looked away. “Yeah?”

“Did you wake up late today?”

“Huh?”

“Well, you were last to board… by quite a while. In fact, you just barely got on in time!”

Killua studied Gon. Squinting, he determined that he was simply curious and wasn’t suspicious of him or anything, probably.

Realizing he was being inspected, he tilted back against the window with a grin. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! We just met after all. But either way, we’ve got hours to kill! I’m fine wistfully staring out the window, but it’d be more fun to get to know each other, right?” Gon almost looked shy. “At least… I think it’d be fun to get to know you”.

“…if you must know, I was late to board because it was a last minute decision to leave town.”

At this, Gon lit up. “Really?! I also just decided to go on this trip this week!”

“Hmm… I actually made the decision this afternoon,” he declared, as if he just won the award for Most Late Decision. He continued, “Anyways, what’s this trip for?”

“Well as you surely know, the town we’re headed to is close to a wilderness refuge!” Gon paused, “…or maybe you didn’t? Anyways, I’m going on a field study to observe the natural fungi cultures there!”

Killua yawned. “Oh, so you’re a nature lover.”

Gon answered by nodding energetically.

“So, are you gonna make a big mushroom soup or something?”

Gon laughed like he was in a live TV audience. “No, silly! I’m just going to take notes in my field book and collect data on the status of the ecosystem!”

Killua grumbled at being called silly… muttering “As if I’m supposed to be familiar with what weirdos do with forest fungus?”

“Hey!” Gon reprimanded Killua, smacking him lightly on the shoulder.

“…I hadn’t meant to say that out loud…” Killua mumbled, rubbing his injury

“You can disrespect me, but not the fungi!”

This time Killua let out an unrestrained laugh. When his cackling subsided, he wiped a tear from his eye. “You really _are_ a weirdo!”

“I’m a weirdo? _You’re_ a weirdo! You left town on a whim and you don’t even know where this bus is going!” Gon accused, pointing a finger in Killua’s face.

Looking a little cross-eyed at the finger for a moment, he hesitated before weakly protesting, “what makes you say that?”

“Our destination is known for its natural resources! Unless you’re a total shut-in, you’d have known!” he emphasized his point with another jab of his accusatory finger.

Briskly pushing the hand away, Killua retorted, “Maybe I just don’t care about dumb nature things! It’s just there for us to develop into something actually useful, anyways!”

Appearing more hurt than offended, Gon smacked him again, but this time without holding back. Killua almost fell into the aisle, but immediately hopped back into their row and started grappling with his seat mate. When he couldn’t overpower him, it quickly devolved into an exchange of slaps. It was difficult to have a true test of strength on the seat of a bus. The sounds of their brawl (mostly childish giggling) carried through the air until another passenger got up and shushed them.

Scolded, they froze; Gon in the midst of pulling Killua’s hair, Killua stretching Gon’s cheeks as far as they could go. They waited motionless in silence until the annoyed stranger left. Not breaking eye contact, Gon slapped Killua across the face one last time (for good measure) before they both fell apart, laughing even louder than before. Remembering how they were just yelled at for being noisy, Killua clapped a hand over his and Gon’s mouths. He locked eyes conspiratorially, whispering, “ _shhhhhh_ ” and winked. This, of course, only prompted Gon to laugh even harder.

To the relief of the bus, they eventually calmed down.  
The two sat in a comfortable silence.

Until Killua abruptly whispered, “Hey Gon”, shifting a bit closer. They weren’t touching, but Killua almost imagined he could feel his warmth.

“…yes?”

“I… am closer to being a shut-in than someone who hates nature. I really just don’t know that much about it. I’ve studied biology and environmental science, but—”

“It’s okay, Killua. I knew you were joking. I just wanted to hit you.”

“Huh?!”

“Now _I’m_ joking!” Gon stuck out his tongue.

Killua sighed. “Well. Anyways. You were right. I got on this bus arbitrarily; the destination didn’t matter. My goal is to get as far away from my family as possible. I don’t want to even be associated with those creeps! I want to… experience life for myself… and figure out who I am”. He pocketed his hands nervously, feeling rather embarrassed for spilling his guts like that.

“I can understand wanting to strike out on your own” Gon responded in a carefully-leveled voice. Killua peeked over, but he was gazing intently out the window. Outside, dark shapes passed silently by. It was too dark to puzzle out where they were. Only the occasional streetlight or passing car provided any light.

Another moment of silence passed.

Quietly, Gon asked, “If you don’t have any other plans, how about you join me on my next study? I could use the extra hands.”

It was too dark for Gon to see the warm smile on Killua’s face when he replied, “yes.”

He immediately started blabbering. “Really? I’m so excited! This will be so much fun! And you can finally get some firsthand experience in the wilderness!” After a few minutes, he realized Killua was not responding much. In fact, he wasn’t responding at all. Gon looked up, squinting through the darkness, and realized that Killua was out cold. He had only known him for a few hours, but somehow it felt very like him to doze off right when he was most excited to discuss plans! “Typical Killua!” he breathed to himself.

Gon had spent the better part of a week compiling research for this trip, and, sure, he hadn’t planned on going with a partner. If he needed help, he would’ve asked someone from the lab. Truthfully, he avoided seeking assistance unless it was absolutely necessary. He had to prove he could make trips into the field and complete assignments on his own. How else would he ever make a name for himself?

He thought about his resting friend (well, he felt like a friend). It was worth refactoring his plans if he could spend more time with him. It just felt right. Gon always went with his gut, and he had a feeling that having Killua around would be helpful… as well as fun. Clearly, Killua was in need of a break. From what exactly, Gon wasn’t sure, but it was clear by how sound he was sleeping that he had led an exhausting life. He imagined their upcoming journey (and possible future adventures) until he also drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my attempt at my first fic!! Feedback and commentary is super welcome.  
> I have a few more chapters in mind... I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Take the bus guys! It's good for the planet and the soul.


	2. Deceiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun, it rises.

The dreary grey sky was beginning to shift and lighten up when Killua felt something tickling his chin. He forced his tired eyes open and stilled in confusion. He vaguely remembered that he was on a bus. But why was someone sleeping against his shoulder!  
As the bleariness faded from his mind, his face proportionately became redder and redder. He had been sleeping up against Gon, a man he had just met! And that man was still asleep! Should he wake him up? That seemed unjustifiably rude. And what would he say when he discovered how they had been sleeping? His forehead crinkled as he considered the possibilities. This was maddeningly embarrassing! 

Killua stared as the gradually dawning light illuminated Gon’s face. His eyebrows were slightly drawn. He had the beginnings of wrinkles from smiling too widely (but also from frowning too harshly). His skin was warm and freckled from exposure to the sun. Killua averted his eyes and tried to calculate an escape, taking a long, deep breath. As he breathed out an exasperated sigh, a piece of Gon’s dark hair rustled about beneath his chin.

Killua tentatively leaned to the right, but this only caused Gon to sink further onto him. It’s not that Gon was heavy, exactly, but Killua was extremely aware of the weight against his side.  
At this point, he made peace with his fate. It… wasn’t that bad, after all. He didn’t mind. He resigned himself to wistfully staring out the window, watching the sky change colors in anticipation of the sun.

One long eternity later, Gon began to awaken. He repositioned himself, nudging his head against Killua’s neck and letting out a peaceful sigh. Killua remained very still, in the hopes it would render him invisible, barely breathing through his clenched teeth. Gon sleepily realized that he was on another person and slowly lifted his head up. He made eye contact with this other person, who was cursing under their breath. Just inches away, Gon was like a deer caught in headlights. 

After a second he scrambled back towards the window, looking rather bashful. “Um,” he started, “Killua… sorry for uh… using you as a pillow,” he scratched behind his neck. 

Also having scrambled, Killua sat on the very, very edge of the seat, hanging over into the aisle. He was searching for something to pretend to look at. Quietly, he muttered, “it’s fine, dummy.”

“So…” Gon chirps, “You woke up before me, yeah?” 

Killua made a noncommittal sound, staring at an abandoned piece of crud on the ground.

“How long were you awake? While I was asleep?”

Killua poked at the junk with his shoe. It scrunched in on itself. He pictured himself doing the same.

“You… could’ve woken me up? Or pushed me off of you?” Gon’s expression shifted from inquisitive to smug, "Is there a reason you didn’t?”

Killua whipped around “I… thought it would be impolite to wake you up!”

“Uh-huh…”

Killua did his best to glare intimidatingly. Gon didn’t back down, but he also didn’t say anything more. The sun was finally rising, and all the warm reds, oranges, and yellows were reflecting off of Killua’s face. He simply stared as the warm colors from the window played with the blush already painted on his cheeks. His colorless hair absorbed every hue, while his blue eyes remained true.

Killua interrupted his reverie, “You’re missing the sunrise, dummy.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Gon thought to himself, turning to peer out the window. 

They both watched the sun stretch up into the sky, casting morning light over the still-moving scenery outside the bus. 

In the light filtering in through the window, Gon faced Killua, saying “If you meant it, last night, I would love it if you joined me on my trip… but, um, if you were just avoiding being impolite, I get it.” He averted his eyes back to the window.

Killua yanked Gon over by the arm. Now in range, Killua flicked him in the forehead. “Dumbass.” He chided, “Of course I meant it! I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t!” He crossed his arms. “I don’t have any better plans, anyways.”

Gon smiled so wide it must’ve hurt. “Okay! Well… in that case, I’ll get out one of my reference books and you can study it for the rest of the ride there!” He quickly rummaged through his bag before procuring an informational booklet.

Killua opened it, flipped past the table of contents and the title page, glanced at it for two seconds, and then dramatically fell over on top of Gon, faking a loud snore.

“Fine, fine, I’ll just tell you what you need to know as we go later,” Gon conceded, a bit muffled under the extra weight. He began leveraging Killua off of him, who went limp, dropping all his weight onto Gon. With a final hoist, he heaved him back onto his own seat.

Killua made a dramatic show of yawning and stretching his arms out, as if waking from a long, long slumber. His performance concluded with using one of his outstretched arms to ruffle Gon’s hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll follow your directions, oh great Mushroom Master, sir!”

Gon shook his head in an attempt to restore his hair and giggled as he waved his hands about, saying, “Oh, no, no, I’m really no master!” but it was clear he was taken by the compliment, regardless. “I’m only sort of an intern…”

“Oh. Okay. So, you’re saying you have no idea what you’re doing, and we’re both going to get eaten by a bear.”

“No! If it came to that, I would distract the bear and you could run!”

Killua felt his eyebrows rise past his forehead. “I’m not even going to comment on that.”

“You just did! …anyways, I totally know what I’m doing!” Gon grabbed Killua’s shoulders and solemnly confessed, “But you’re just going to have to trust me.”

Killua gingerly removed his hands from his shoulders and stated, “Everyone knows you don't trust strangers.”

“How do you ever make friends if you honestly believe that?” 

“I’m not sure if I _believe_ it per se… but it’s what I’ve been taught. Anyways, I don’t have a need for a lot of friends.” Killua folded his arms.

“Everybody needs friends! And I don’t believe that you really believe it!”

“Huh? How do you know what I do or don’t believe?”

Gon mirrored Killua, crossing his arms. “I just know.” Killua rolled his eyes. “If it makes a difference, _I_ trust _you_!”

Killua struggled to comprehend. He opened and shut his mouth a few times like a goldfish before settling on asking, “Why?”

Gon fired back, “Why not?” with a wink. He paused for effect while Killua seethed before continuing, “You haven’t given me any reason to not trust you! Plus, I’ve been told I have great judgement.” Killua merely snorted. “And it goes without saying that I trust my friends!” Gon was practically sparkling. 

Killua wanted to scoff or roll his eyes or otherwise act aloof and unaffected but… he couldn’t do anything but smile like a dweeb. “Oh.” 

After a certain incident during childhood, Killua was not authorized to leave his family’s property without express permission, and he was not allowed to contact or see anyone who wasn’t approved. In spite of this, he discreetly messaged a few online friends. 

It had been years since he had a friend that he could actually talk to, face-to-face, or smile at, or, perhaps, fall asleep against. His brain understood that he had literally just met Gon hours ago, but his heart was overwhelmed with hope.

“I suppose… you haven’t given me a reason to distrust you.” Killua acquiesced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Killua deserves friendship and that's that on that.  
> This chapter's kinda short but it just felt right.
> 
> If you think I am romanticizing mass transit, you're right!


	3. Rosy Bonnet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They boys spend one last day among society.

The rest of the bus trip passed rather unremarkably. Gon daydreamed, his face plastered to the glass of the window. Killua doodled in a sketchbook, bouncing his leg to the music in his headphones.

Finally, they arrived.

Killua packed up his belongings and slung his backpack on as Gon retrieved a larger pack from the overhead storage. All the passengers took their sweet, sweet time filing out of the bus. Killua and Gon raced off the bus, whooping with joy.

“It’s going to rain today, so we can explore the town and stock up on supplies. Tomorrow we can get up super early and start surveying the fungal activity!” Gon exclaimed with as much excitement as one might use to announce they’re adopting a puppy.

And so, with all of Killua’s worldly possessions in hand, he took his first few steps away from the bus, following after the complete stranger he had chosen to sit next to on the bus he had arbitrarily ridden on.

The two new friends walked side-by-side down the sidewalk, mimicking the positions they had gotten used to on the long bus ride. Gon was rambling about some hijinks he had gotten into the last time he was in this town. Killua was only half-listening, hands in his pockets, wondering what was happening at home right now.

By now, his brother had likely realized he hadn’t come home last night. Soon, his father would be alerted of his presence. After that, his mother would start—

“Hey Killua are you listening? This is where it gets good!”

“Ah, um, yea. Actually, can you repeat that last bit?”

“Hmm. It’s okay I’ll just tell you the story later!”

“Are you sure? Sorry, Gon. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. We’re here, anyways.”

Killua looked up and down the street. “Here?”

“Yep!” he popped the ‘p’. “This is my favorite diner… in the world!”

Killua raised a single eyebrow. “Oh?”

Gon brushed past him and opened the door, making a welcoming gesture with his other hand as he bowed his head slightly. A small bell jingled in response. Killua walked in, closely followed by Gon.

Before Killua could acquaint himself with his new surroundings in this cozy, if dusty, diner, several people started shouting:

“Hey Gon!”  
“Is that you, my boy? Long time no see!”  
“GON!”

Their shouts and cheers overlapped as Killua looked left and right at these loud strangers. A lady behind the counter politely waved. A younger boy grinned, pausing in clearing a table. A rather sturdy looking man made his way over to hook an arm around Gon’s neck. Gon looked downright demure.

“Heh… hi guys! I’m back in town for a little while for another study.”

“Ohoho, is this your new assistant?” the man still grabbing onto Gon nearly shouted.

Gon shook his head, still in his grasp. “Nope! This is Killua!”

The man stepped back. He scratched the side of his face before chuckling, “Gon, my boy, that doesn’t explain anything!”

At this point, Killua finally interjected, “I met him yesterday and decided to tag along on his trip, is all.”

“Oh… you’re in for one hell of a time, lad!” he cackled to himself before extending a hand. “The name’s Knuckle… now how’s about I get you two some coffee!”

Killua sat at the booth, sipping his coffee. He had added a pack of creamer and a childish amount of sugar to it. He lazily stirred it around. The spoon clinked about against the mug.  
He didn’t feel the need to participate in all of this hullabaloo.

Across the room, Gon had yet to escape from the small crowd of old friends. They hounded him for more information—what had he been up to, what was he studying now, where did he meet that aloof boy again, why hadn’t he called back…

Gon did his best to placate them. He did feel bad for not always keeping in touch… but he made sure to always stop by the diner when he was in town.

By the time he got away, Killua was already on his second refill. Gon sat down across from him, bearing an apologetic face.

“Quite a lively bunch.” Killua stated.

“Yea, I think you’d like them if you got to know them!” Gon chirped. He then muttered, “They sure seemed curious about you…”

“Well, I waited to order for you. So hurry up and pick something! I’m starving!”

“Heh, you didn’t have to, Killua! And I usually just let Knuckle make whatever he feels like.” Gon started wildly waving. “Hey, Palm!” he shouted, suddenly absolutely cheesing.

A woman with a mystifying aura floated up to the table. “Hello Gon” she warmly greeted. She barely spared a glance at Killua, who immediately soured.

“I’ll have the Chef’s Special,” Gon winked, “And Killua will have…”

“I’ll have the shortcakes. Full stack. With strawberries. …Please.”

The woman smiled as she drifted back towards the kitchen. She wrote down the details of the order on a slip of paper and added it to the queue.

Gon hummed into his cup of coffee.

Killua couldn’t stop himself. “Who’s that lady, huh?”

“Oh! That’s Palm. She and I go _way_ back.” He smiled to himself. “I’ve been to this area several times previously… as you could tell. One of my first trips was pretty… extensive. So I got to know everyone here really well! And she and I hung out in our free time…” he trailed off, reminiscing to himself.

Killua knew it was none of his business. But suddenly it felt like his business. So what if he was curious? Sue him. “So you two were… uh, you were good friends?”

“Yeah!” No hesitation.

Killua hesitated. “Is… is that all?”

“Well…”

Before Gon could fully respond, Palm was suddenly standing there, holding a pot of coffee. Gon looked like he had been caught red-handed, but she only looked bemused. “Just what are you saying about me, Gon?” She ruffled his hair, catching him off guard. Killua snickered.

“Only good things, I promise!”

“Ah. Well if you promise, then I have to believe you.” Without any warning, she slid into the booth, bumping Gon back towards the wall haphazardly. Palm set the coffee down and folded her arms under her chin. “It’s been a slow day, and I’ve got all the orders in right now, so why don’t we catch up?”

Across the table, Killua blew over his coffee. He peered through the steam at Gon and the woman who had just joined them. She had dark, wavy hair. It was pulled back into a low bun that threatened to unravel at any moment. She was tall and pretty—taller than Gon, who feigned being grumpy over being shoved. Palm touched a hand to her cheek, laughing like a school girl. They really did get along like old friends.

Killua came back into focus just in time to hear Gon saying, “—and then Killua agreed to come here with me today, even though we had just met!”

“Don’t make me sound so wishy-washy! You invited me!”

Palm scrunched her face, holding back laughter. “Either way, here you are, Killua.”

“Yeah. Here I am,” He said dryly.

“So, you’re here now, but where were you yesterday? I’m a bit curious.” She put the full force of her gaze on him.

“I was… home. Following every whim of my grandfather. Until I saw my opening and hopped on a bus… Gon’s bus… and wound up here.” His honest answer surprised himself, but he had the sense that Palm would’ve called him out if he had lied. Something about her eyes…

Gon’s eyes searched Killua’s distant ones. This was new information (albeit not much). But Palm nodded to herself as if she now understood all the nuances of Killua’s situation.

She brushed off her lap and stood up, carrying the coffee pot once again. “Well, you two had better check in with me before you leave town again. And _you_ , mister,” she pointed one long finger at Gon’s nose, “had better start calling more often!”

Gon shrunk in his seat, weakly agreeing. Satisfied, she bustled off back towards the kitchen again.

Killua wondered if Gon was just forgetful or he was deliberately not contacting these people.

~~~

The travelers again hit the pavement, but at a slower pace now that they were weighed down by breakfast. Gon was holding his stomach and grunting like an old man. Killua wanted to tell him to shut up, but he didn’t have the energy.

Suddenly, Gon stopped. Killua bumped right into him.

Gon turned to face him, declaring, “ _This_ … is my favorite stretch of grass in the town.” He unceremoniously lay face down in it.

“What. Really?”

“No, I just need to be horizontal and digest,” he whined. "And this spot is as good as any.”

Killua internally shrugged and joined him.

Neither of them moved for a half hour. Eventually, Killua rolled over on his stomach and poked Gon with a stick like a dead bug. No response. He poked at him with increasing force until Gon groaned and rolled over (not unlike a beetle rolling onto its back, curling its legs into the air before departing this realm).

“I think all that food was Knuckle’s way of punishing me,” the bug grunted.

“Probably.”

Gon suddenly sat up and started stretching his arms out and over towards his arched feet. He leant back on his arms and pointed his toes. He met Killua’s eyes.

“Hey, what were you writing on the bus, Killua?” He held out one locked arm and pulled his hand back with the other.

“I wasn’t writing, I was drawing.”

“Oh. Then what were you drawing?”

“Nothing in particular. Just some freeform shapes. Pretty abstract. It might be a little too modern for you,” he snobbishly said, snorting a little.

But, rather than getting discouraged, this only incited more curiosity in Gon. Eyes wide, he murmured, “You’re amazing, Killua…”

“Huh?!”

“Oh, I just said that you’re amazing. I mean, it sounds like you’re a real pro!” He started asking questions rapid-fire, each one more excited than the last, “Is that what you do? Are you a contemporary artist? How many museums are you in?”

Killua forced his gaping mouth shut, snapping out of another Gon-induced stupor, “What the hell are you talking about? Shut up!” He pinched the bridge of his nose and dramatically sighed. “I’m not a… pro… nor am I in any museums.”

“Well you should be!”

“I should be a pro? Or I should be in museums?” He shook his head, wondering why he was playing along at all. “Whatever. You have no basis to say that anyway, since you haven’t seen my work.”

“You’re right!” Gon exclaimed, truly not having realized this. “Hey Killua, can I see one of your drawings?”

“…maybe later.”

“Okay!”

Gon resumed stretching and grinned as Killua sat up and joined him, mirroring his actions.

~~~

“We’ll probably camp for a few days at a time, so you might need some more things…”

And so they found themselves outside of the local thrift store. As soon as they entered, Gon made a beeline to the outdoor gear section and immediately began rifling through various blobs of polyester fabric.  
He searched for just the right sleeping bag and other related accessories while Killua looked on in interest. Holding up two mysterious bags of… something, Gon asked for his opinion, “Which one would you rather use?”

“I have no idea what those are.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t really know much about this sort of thing… if I’m in the way, say the word, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“What! No, no, Killua, I want you here.”

This genuinely took Killua by surprise. Had he ever heard those words before? He suddenly realized his face was warm. He stared at his shoelaces. “Hmph! Embarrassing…”

“Even if you’ve never started a fire before… I can just show you how!” Gon’s smile was blinding. “I can’t do this without you!”

“Ugh! Would you cut that out!”

Gon continued smiling as he silently chose which bag to purchase and put the other back into the pile of disorganized camping stuff.  
Before checking out, they made one last lap through the store, just browsing all the different knickknacks and novelty items.

Perusing the shoe section, Killua couldn’t believe his luck. The local thrift store just happened to have a pair of Heelys in his size. Not only were they fashionable skate shoes, but they had functional wheels! Killua knew he had made the right choices in life to lead up to this moment, and he expressed as much to Gon, who held his opinions to himself.

“I’m… glad you’re happy,” he relented, when he realized Killua was waiting for his appraisal.

Killua nodded very seriously and made his way to the front of the store to check out.

Gon insisted that he pay for the gear, since it was all selected based off his own preferences.

When they walked out, they saw the forecast was right—the rain was here. Killua tugged his sweatshirt’s hood on and pulled his sleeves over his hands.

Gon placed an umbrella in one of his sleeved hands. “I heard the rain against the roof of the store, so I thought I’d get an umbrella!”

“You don’t want to use it?”

“No, it’s for you! I don’t want you to catch a cold before we go into the field! My aunt always scolds me for walking around in the rain… but I’m used to it!” Gon grinned impishly before turning on his heels and heading down the street.

Killua silently opened the umbrella and followed.

The raindrops left dark spots on the shoulders of the other's jacket and dampened his hair. “Gon—,” he started, pausing when the other turned at the sound of his name. Their eyes met as a heavy droplet of water ran down his face, from his eyebrows to his nose, before splattering on the pavement.

Killua stepped closer, meeting Gon at his side, and pointedly held the umbrella half over himself and half over the already dampened boy. He wasn’t sure if he didn’t want Gon to catch a cold, either, or if he just didn’t feel comfortable accepting the umbrella while Gon had nothing. Regardless, he wasn’t going to explain himself, so he hoped Gon wouldn’t ask.

Gon looked up and giggled, but didn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell, this is me indulging my own Heely fantasies.
> 
> Thanks to those who have been reading and supporting this so far! I'm starting to get back into the flow of writing and that's a neat feeling.


	4. Jelly Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a day in the woods.  
> Finally, some mushrooms.

They rose early. In the faint grey morning light, they slipped on several layers of shirts and jackets and filled their packs. Gon grabbed his collection of reference texts and half-used journals; Killua simply scooped up whatever belongings he had and shoved them into his backpack. Gon hoisted his pack on experimentally, adjusting all sorts of straps to his liking. It was taller than him, by several inches. He threw several cans of beans into a lower compartment.

They tidied up the room they had stayed in, fluffing couch cushions and refolding blankets. One of Gon’s old colleagues had let them crash in his living room.

Once they had everything in order, they caught a ride to the trailhead in the wilderness refuge they would be working in.

~~~

Killua studied a map of the surrounding areas that was posted by the entranceway to the trail. There were a few different routes, but they all connected via one main way. He sighed in relief; there was no way they could get lost here!

Still, he tried to commit the map to memory. Just in case.

He was suddenly pulled away from it, literally, by Gon’s impatient hand on the back of his backpack. “Don’t bother with that, Killua! There’s almost no detail or information on it.”

Killua grabbed one of the foldout maps, rolled it up, and bonked Gon on the head with it. “I’d like to be prepared for what I’m getting myself into, Gon.”

“Then you should toss that…,” he grumbled to himself. Brighter, he said, “Alright, let’s hit it!”

The hike finally began. The ground was soft under their feet, made pliable from last night’s rain. The dawning sun cast scattered bits of light through the leaves onto the earth below.

They walked along the path, which was clearly established and labeled with blazes every now and then to reassure travelers that they were still, in fact, on track. Not that there were that many other trails to accidentally stumble onto here.

The wilderness refuge was mostly a large expanse of untouched land, brimming with flora and fauna doing their own thing. This one main trail led curious travelers past some of the more popular sights, like the enormous wildflower patches, and scenic water features: ponds, brooks, and what have you. The trail also served as a barrier; by herding hikers along this singular route, they were less likely to trample the delicate ecosystems in the refuge.

Killua was enjoying this. Not to be corny, but the air out here really was fresher. Especially when compared to the stale air of his old bedroom. Everything was so… green. And alive. The recent rain had revived the plant life.

For the past few days, Gon had constantly been extremely lively himself. He had an endless stream of chatter at the ready, and seemed proud to introduce Killua to his friends and the town.

But as soon as they crossed the threshold at the trailhead, Gon took on a more serious air. His chatter faded to nothing. This was work, after all, and he was deadly serious about surveying.

In the absence of Gon’s commentary, the sounds of the woods felt amplified, as if they were in an acoustically reverberating recording studio. The rustling of branches as a bird alights, the crunch of the season’s last dry leaves on the ground, the singing of various insects. Appreciating all these subtle sounds took all of Killua’s focus, and whereas before he might’ve been lost to his thoughts and concerns in the absence of something immediately in front of him to do, here he was able to be in the moment and just exist.

This blissful white noise in his brain might be why he didn’t consider _why_ Gon was so silent.

There wasn’t much elevation change along the trail, so they had already completed two miles in under an hour. But after crossing a bridge, Gon suddenly veered off course. Shaken out of his daze, Killua skidded to a halt and watched as he gently parted the tall grass with his hands before disappearing into it.

“Gon! Wait up! Where are you going?” each shout increasingly nervous, Killua jostled after the other through the grasses.

Not stopping anytime soon, Gon continued tunneling until Killua reached him and yanked him back by a loop on his pack (finally getting revenge for earlier).

Surrounded on all sides by blades of wild grass taller than either of them, Gon turned to confront Killua with an impatient look.

“Well? What’s the big idea?”

“What are you talking about,” Gon ground out. “I’m just trying to get to the first area I’m studying this week.”

“It’s… out here? In this… grass?”

“Yes, Killua. It is _out here_.”

“Do you know where you’re going? I can’t see anything through this grass! Do you even have a map?” Killua tried not to sound incredulous. Really, he tried.

Gon faced the other way, sighing hard enough to rustle the grasses in front of him. “I know these woods, Killua. Someone like me doesn’t need a map.”

“How far off trail are we gonna go?”

“Just…” Gon reached back and grabbed his wrist. “Come on. Let’s get through this grassy bit and we can discuss how you don’t trust me later.”

Killua allowed himself to be pulled through, the tall grasses gently brushing past his face. He had nothing to say.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Gon. All things considered, he honestly put a lot of faith in the other man. But he also appreciated following proper protocol, sticking to the roads, and having a known destination. All his life, he had followed very specific rules and instructions.

But with Gon’s hand confidently wrapped around his wrist and the sounds of the underbrush filling his ears, he felt like he could allow himself to takes things as they come, for maybe just a little while.

The grasses gave way to shorter grasses, which gave way to a mossy valley. A high ceiling of dense leafy branches blocked most of the sunlight. Moisture hung in the air. Past the clearing, the land sloped downwards at a steep angle. If you were to roll down it, it would be a rocky descent, to say the least.

Gon steered Killua along the side of the clearing, placing him on the exposed surface of a smooth rock. Killua barely blinked before Gon had already left his side and roughly flung off his pack, crouching over it and rifling through various pockets.

Killua glanced back at his arm, now free. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

The mosses before him looked impossibly soft, and he imagined taking a cat nap nestled within them. But, it seemed they had tip toed around them intentionally, so instead he plopped down where he was standing, crossing his legs against the cool surface of the rock.

His backpack slid off his arms, thudding onto the rock.

Next to him, Gon finished rummaging through his things and stood up, dramatically gesturing to the clearing with a flourish.

“This place is important to an ongoing study! It’s home to lots of cool stuff, but it’s all super tiny… so watch where you step!” His face gave away his quiet excitement.

Killua waved him off. “Sure, dude, I get it. I’ll be careful.”

At that, Gon smiled. “Thanks for understanding. The moss that grows here is fragile. If there’s too much sun, or not enough water, or… careless hikers step on it, it dies out and doesn’t come back. Sometimes nature doesn’t give second chances.”

Killua rested his head in his hand.

“But! When the conditions are right, the moss is happy! And we got to see that today.” Gon brandished his journal. “I’ll just jot down some notes.”

He gently reached the middle of the clearing, balancing on bare rocks and hopping over the patches of green. It looked like he was playing a game of hop scotch.

“These are often referred to as ‘simple’, especially when compared to other organisms. But aren’t they fascinating to look at? There’s so many different kinds just right here! You have to get real close to really see them though.” With that, he took something out of his pocket and threw it at Killua. He caught it one-handed, and opened his palm to see a looking glass.

It was a simple piece of round glass with a modest handle. Killua held it up to his face as he knelt over the pillowy lumps of moss before him. He closed one eye and focused.

He was instantly transported to an alien world, no longer just green but dark mauve and wispy orange as well. He was a giant peering over a tiny version of the woods he was kneeling in, a complete microcosm.

He was interrupted by someone’s voice breezing over, “Well?”

Killua looked up to see Gon already widely grinning back. He realized he was also smiling. “It’s pretty neat.”

“Heh. Yeah, I guess it’s _neat_. If you recall, I’m actually not here to study mosses, or liverworts for that matter. Some mushrooms prefer similar conditions, though, so it’s a good place to check.”

Killua nodded. That made sense. He watched as Gon ran his hand through the moss so gently his fingers barely even made contact.

Gon stood up and continued to tiptoe across rocks and fallen lumber, inspecting all the hidden spots and corners in the valley. Every so often, he paused to scribble into his field notes. He didn’t seem to need the glass back, so Killua continued looking into it.

Eventually, Gon returned to the large rock, saying he was done. “I’ve catalogued all the mushrooms in this sector. As I said, this is part of an on-going project, so I was obliged to stop here. This is where it gets fun!” He packed his notes away and lifted his pack back onto his shoulders.

Killua squinted his eyes, just a little, in apprehension. He stood up, gathering his own stuff back on. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Where to next?”

Gon couldn’t hide his mirth. “Where do you wanna go?”

Killua just stared at him.

In the absence of an answer, Gon continued, “We could check the closest creek, we could scale down… that,” he paused to point at the threatening drop-off, “…or we could just choose a random direction!”

“…is returning to the trail not an option?”

“Nope!”

“Then, I guess, let’s hit the creek?”

“Alrighty! This-a-way, then!”

They waded through the grass again and traversed parallel to the trail, but now at a lower elevation. Soon they found the creek that they had crossed via bridge earlier in the day.

Killua was getting ready to find somewhere to wait again, when he noticed Gon hiking up his pants and already splashing about in the water.

“Come on in, the water’s just right!” He laughed. He was in it up to his knees.

Killua balked. “I thought you were going to study here!”

“Oh, I’m studying something!” Gon sung mischievously. “How long are you gonna stand there? Could it be… you don’t know how to swim?”

That was all it took for Killua to pull the legs of his pants up and rip off his shoes.

The water was cool against his skin, and had already dampened the ends of his pants. He kicked a wave of water towards the other. “Happy now?”

Gon giggled, feigning a shielding motion with his arms. “Yep!” He chirped, shamelessly. “Don’t leave your shoes there, who knows when we’ll come back here.” He waited for Killua to collect his sneakers and socks before continuing down the riverbed.

Killua tried his best not to slip on the slimy rocks under his feet, catching up to Gon once again.

“I figured we’d take a stroll through the river! Plus, lots of species love to hang out here.” He dipped his finger through the surface algae to prove his point.

Killua abstained from touching the river goop.

“Look, there’s something good right over there!” Gon shouted over the water.

Killua followed the direction of his index finger to some milky mushrooms bubbling out of the grass. Curious, he stepped out of the river to get a closer look.

Crouched over the oddly spherical formation, he was goaded by Gon: “Go on… poke it!”

Trusting the advice of an expert, Killua did just that and poked one, releasing a cloud of ashy smoke in his face.

Covered in a strange dust, he turned to face Gon, who had wisely moved upstream, out of range.

Even from afar, his maniacal laughter carried over the water.

Killua leapt back into the stream, and sloshed after his target. “Wipe that look off your face before I do it for you!”

“You should wipe _your_ face, Killua,” he giggled. “You’re covered in spores!”

Rather than cupping his hands to splash his adversary, he resigned himself to washing the grime off his face.

He wondered if Gon was really studying the creek, or if they came here just to mess around.

To Gon’s credit, they did stop every now and then so he could jot something down when they passed some fungus growing on an outstretched root or some sediment on the riverbank, but it did feel like they were wading just for fun.

At one such stop, as Gon closed his notebook and stashed it back in a side pocket of his pack (placing his pen behind his right ear), Killua yelped and jumped perhaps 5 feet in the air.

Gon fumbled, but in the end did catch his journal before it met its watery end. He looked questioningly at the other, who grimaced.

“Something brushed up against my leg…”

Gon observed the creek for a moment, before quickly reaching a hand in and holding up a frog like it was a stray baseball he had just caught from the stands.

“It’s a frog, Killua!” He triumphantly declared.

“I see it.”

The frog croaked in agreement.

This was going to be a long trip.

~~~

After almost a full day of trekking through the wilderness, Gon, a seasoned traveler, made the decision to establish camp before it got dark out.

He was scouting out a campsite: a spot with a relatively flat surface and decent coverage. Somewhere within his backpack was a tent, poles, and stakes. But, before he retrieved those, he pulled out a hammock and turned to his somewhat gullible friend.

“I’m thinking we hang our hammock between…,” he dragged out, “those two trees! Does that work for you, Killua?”

Killua processed this, running the numbers in his head. He looked at the tree, the second tree, and then back at Gon. Red in the face, he spat out, “ _Our hammock?_ ”

“Yep!” An innocent smile adorned his face, as if he would never even think to tease Killua.

“We-you, you want to share a hammock?”

“Yeah, it’s really nice to sleep under the stars! The wind rocks you gently to sleep…” Gon’s tone was wistful.

Killua tried to imagine how both of them would fit in one hammock. Bundled in polyester, pulled together by gravity and tension (of the material, that is). He was plotting the logistics. Was there a solution he could accept? Would he sleep a single wink tonight?

It was fun to mess around with Killua, but his face might split in two if he wrinkled his brow any deeper. “Gon… I—”

Before he blew a fuse, Gon gave in. “I’m joking! I brought my tent with me!” Gon held his hand to his mouth, trying to hold back laughter.

Killua’s mouth was a small, round circle. “O-oh! Right, I figured… you were kidding. Whatever, let’s just set this tent up!” Realizing it had been a joke, he felt even more rattled. He rubbed his temple with his knuckles, trying to make himself chill out.

Eventually, Killua calmed down and Gon stopped silently buzzing with laughter, and they were able to make short work of the tent. It was no problem shaking out the components, aligning the fabric, and snapping the poles in place with both of them working together. They took on opposite sides, rocks in hand, to stake down the corners.

They stepped back to admire their work. The cover was properly taut, so rain wouldn’t get in and dampen their things. The wind wouldn’t cause any issues either; this tent wasn’t going anywhere.

The tent itself was a fairly neutral dark green. It was only big enough for two inhabitants, but any bigger would’ve only been a hindrance to tote about.

Satisfied, they began the process of tossing their things into the tent and making it a little more homely. Gon unfolded an insulating foam mat and laid a sleeping bag on top of it. He procured some stuff that Killua recognized from the store; it turned out to be sleeping supplies for himself.

He unlatched a button and marveled as air began to fill up his new—used—sleeping pad. Not wanting to squeeze any air out before it was ready, he set his sleeping bag next to it and sat back away from it.

As he scooted back from his side of the tent, he bumped right into the other occupant. The tent was big enough for two, but not much else. Rather than sit side by side, Killua unzipped his door and crawled out.

As he stood back up, he met eyes with Gon, who had also exited but from his respective side. They mirrored each other with their tent in between, until Gon ducked down again briefly, to return with a tiny frying pan in one hand and a can of beans in the other.

“Do you want to learn how to start a camp fire?”

~~~

Gon had relished bossing Killua around, demanding increasing sizes of twigs and sticks, but he really enjoyed seeing the look in his eyes when his fire finally caught. Sure, Gon had him do all the legwork, but he also let him have the best part!

They cooked some simple burritos.

Huddled over their fire, they enjoyed an easy meal and laughed until the sun was long gone.

After finishing dinner, Gon pulled out a bag of marshmallows. Killua’s excitement was palpable. “I don’t want to have to stop in town again for a few days at least, so we need to ration these, okay?”

Killua nodded like he wasn’t even listening. “Uh-huh, yeah sure. Just toss me a mallow, bro!”

Gon rolled his eyes and pelted him with a marshmallow. Killua pretended to fall over from the impact of the shot. He would’ve returned the friendly fire if he wasn’t itching to eat it.

Gon watched as he speared it on a stick and put it in the fire. He continued watching as the outside layer hardened into a flaky black crust. It caught fire. Only then did Killua retrieve it. He blew it out like it was the smoking barrel of a gun before popping it in his mouth.

Meanwhile, Gon sat across the fire, meticulously rotating his marshmallow on a stick a foot above the fire. He slowly achieved the perfect golden toasty goodness before removing it from heat.

~~~

Killua unzipped his gifted sleeping bag and deliberately placed himself within it, in the proper recommended pose: on his back, legs straight, feet in the very end of the bag. Folding the puffy exterior over himself, he zipped it up to his chin and cinched the bit around his face tight, so that only his eyes and nose poked through (and a few pieces of his bleach-blond bangs).

At his side, Gon inch-wormed his way into his own bag, choosing to wiggle into it rather than bother with the zipper at all. Killua glanced over at the sound of the material being violently shaken about, and guffawed at the sight.

The sound of the tent mates cracking up echoed outside of their tent and through the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this! I'm sorry it's so silly haha (not sorry)
> 
> You can kinda tell by all the sections, but I'm visually-oriented, and I'm kind of imagining sequences and then trying to translate it to word.  
> I'm shifting away from narrating every single moment and skipping ahead more... moreso in the chapters after this, but you'll see....... let me know if it gets to be too much.
> 
> Also, I'm going to be updating tags as I go, for what it's worth.


	5. Yellow Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day in the woods!  
> Killua and Gon get into the rhythm of living and working together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a mention of suicidal ideation in this chapter!  
> Please me mindful of this before reading.  
> Be kind to yourself and be safe.

Before embarking on his expedition, Gon, a budding researcher, was given a most-wanted list of certain species of fungi that he needed to document extensively. He was also tasked with cataloging the general trends of the more common varieties.

The data he collected would be compared with previous years’ data as well as future years’, so it had to be accurate. If he could paint a picture of the status of the ecosystem here, he could help strengthen the argument to continue protecting (and studying) the land. Also, if he impressed his lab, he might achieve more responsibility and higher recognition.

Killua, his partner and friend did not have expertise in this field, but having company helped Gon keep a clearer head. It was also fun to hang out together! It’s nice to have someone to share an experience with (even if the experience is Killua getting jumped by a frog).

As a fairly independent naturalist, Gon made his own schedule. Thus, no one bothered to set any alarms for the next day; why wake up at a certain time when they had nowhere to be? Today was going to be another day of aimlessly wandering the woods (at least, it seemed to be aimless wandering).

This freeform schedule is why Killua awoke to the warm rays of the morning sun peeking over the trees surrounding the tent. He screwed up his face in an attempt to block the light from getting through his eyelids. Not being very successful, he rolled over to hide his entire face in the ground.

While this method worked better, there were some obstacles. Namely, one obstacle, and by name, it was Gon, who was still fast asleep even after the collision.

Not registering the obstacle as a person, and still half asleep, Killua lay contentedly against Gon’s back for a short while.

Until Gon yawned (obnoxiously) awake, turned over and sleepily brushed his wispy hair away from his eyes, that is. His fingers barely even glanced Killua’s forehead, but that was all it took to shock him fully conscious.

His eyes popped open, but Gon had already slinked out of the tent.

Killua suddenly felt cold.

~~~

By the time Killua crawled out of his sleeping bag, got dressed, and exited the tent, Gon was already sipping a stainless steel mug of coffee from his hammock (which he had evidently hung up). Kicking his feet in the air, he gestured to a second mug sitting on a stump that resembled a side table.

Wordlessly, Killua accepted the coffee and sat on the stump that now resembled a stool. Nature had a way of being multifunctional. He opened up his sketchbook and got to work.

Gon continued to swing back and forth on the hammock (which is not recommended by the manufacturers).

They shared a lazy morning.

~~~

There was still plenty of ground to cover in the areas surrounding their current base, so there was no need to pack everything up and lug it around. They were able to take off for the day with a lot less weighing them down. Feeling ambitious, when Killua was again tasked by Gon with choosing a route, he pointed to one of the mountain peaks on the horizon.

“When you said we’d be hiking, this is what I was imagining. Not splashing around in dirty rivers!” he harrumphed. “And you better not be going easy on me! I spent my childhood running up and down mountains.” He didn’t let on that it was really just _mountain_ , singular. But if he had his way, he would’ve stayed on the cross-country team, and he would’ve kept going on trail runs with his childhood best friend.

Gon hummed to himself. “Well, I’ll keep the same pace we’ve been going at on the way up, so I can collect data appropriately. But running down a mountain sounds like a blast!”

“It’s fun. Just try not to trip over your own feet and take me out with you!” the apparent running expert snorted.

They stretched before taking off towards the sloping ridgeline in the distance.

~~~

In contrast to the day before, the air was filled with quiet smalltalk today. They showed each other a glimpse of their pasts, which seemed so distant when their present was so much more engaging.

Killua cryptically spoke of his childhood, of when he lost his freedom, and of when he decided to reclaim it for himself. Gon never asked for more details.

Gon freely discussed his upbringing, living with his aunt in a remote area, and of how he found a mentor to study ecology from, leading to his current position.

Did it really matter who they used to be, when they were here right now?

The sun had successfully dried out the top layer of soil, and each footstep was met with a satisfying crunch. Flowers that weren’t present yesterday danced in the sunlight.

Gon walked with his notes at the ready, taking census of the different fungi they met.

The hike was more challenging, quickly becoming an uphill battle, literally, but the hikers were eager to peak. They excitedly ascended the foothills, which got steeper and steeper until they reached the mountain that had previously seemed so far away.

At the edge of the tree line, where the woods thinned and plants reached lesser heights, the pair paused. Killua noticed them first. He dragged Gon over to the biggest mushrooms they had encountered yet.

“Gon! Check it out!” he snorted. “It’s nature’s umbrella!”

He wasn’t wrong; with long, spindly stalks and wide-brimmed caps, they did resemble umbrellas sprouting out of the ground. They were at least several feet tall.

“I bet you could fit under that one, Gon,” he sneered.

“I’m not that short, Killua…” he complained, but he approached the biggest one and could, in fact, fit under it. If he was seated, that is.

He looked like he was waiting to be served at a fancy outdoor café. Killua almost walked over to ask if he’d like sparkling or still water, sir. Perhaps our finest bottled? Instead he just stood there smiling goofily.

“What’s so funny, huh?” Gon challenged.

“You.”

And so, the weary travelers took a break from climbing the mountain to tussle at the edge of the woods.

~~~

As they ascended to higher elevations, the terrain became more alpine. The majority of the plants, to put it simply, were shrubby. Underfoot, the ground was rocky.

It had taken almost all day to get here. The only conversation left was an exchange of huffs and puffs. But they weren’t going to stop to catch their breath now, not when the summit was in sight.

Slowly, they dragged their limbs up and over the last rocks, which were more like smallish boulders than rocks.

Gon threw one half of his body over the ledge and then log rolled to complete his unfashionable top out.

“Killua…,” he feebly gasped, “Help me… I can’t… make it…” He weakly held up his arms, shaking, but outstretched. “It’s going dark,” he whispered.

Killua ignored him.

“Go on… without me…”

Seeing as they were at the peak of a mountain, and that—despite his exhaustion—Gon seemed to be prepared to continue his performance indefinitely, Killua clasped his hands in Gon’s and forcibly yanked him to his feet.

Suddenly revived, Gon held his rescuer in place by the shoulders to beam at him from point blank.

Now Killua felt woozy, too. He was at the top of a mountain, surrounded on all sides by an incredible vista of all the rolling hills and distant towns.

But he hadn’t even spared a glance at all of _that_.

He didn’t even want to look at it when Gon was looking at him like that.

“Thanks for saving me, oh brave knight,” he said it as if he really meant it, but the absurdity of it brought Killua back to reality: Gon’s dramatic monologue wasn’t over.

He finally shoved the clown off of him and found a good spot to eat a late lunch at. He opened his bag to dig out all the components: a sandwich, some fruit, and some nuts. Now that he was looking at it, the view really was spectacular. This was the second best part of climbing a mountain. He swung his legs over the edge as he chomped into an apple.

By all outwards appearances done with his antics, Gon joined him. He kicked his feet in the air as he perused his own bag.

Finding something at the bottom of it, he turned and said, “Did you know that when people throw apple cores or banana peels into the woods, they stay there for years?”

“I wasn’t going to toss this over!”

“I didn’t think you were. It’s just a common misconception.”

“Did you know that you can’t actually slip on a banana peel?”

“…you know I’m going to try to prove you wrong.”

“Why else would I have brought it up?” Killua said cheekily.

“I know exactly what you’re trying to do…,” Gon was suspicious for all of one second. “And I’m still going to prove you wrong! We’ll get a banana later.”

Finished with his packed meal, Killua was standing up when Gon stopped him. “Wait! Aren’t you forgetting… dessert?”

Killua’s eyes shone. “Dessert?”

“Yep! Check it out!” Gon brandished a handful of something dewy, yellow, and conical. He had some sort of candy that Killua had never seen before. They were shaped like Hershey’s kisses, but they definitely weren’t chocolate.

Sensing his apprehension, Gon popped one in his own mouth. It seemed… chewy.

Too intrigued by the prospect of candy to question it any further, Killua tried one. He chewed it a few times… before spitting it out. The slightly mangled yellow blob bounced downhill out of sight.

“What the hell are you feeding me, Freecss?”

“Nature’s candy!” He was proud of himself.

“Wha-was that a mushroom?”

“Bingo!”

“Ugh…” Killua took a swig of water, obnoxiously gargled it, and spit it out in the direction of where the ‘candy’ went.

“Don’t worry! A proper mycologist would never suggest you eat something poisonous!”

“Oh, so now you’re proper?”

Gon laughed. “Okay. Well _I_ would never tell you to eat something bad.”

“That was bad!”

“It wasn’t bad _for_ you.”

Killua grumbled incoherently.

After he had grumbled to his heart’s content, he inquired, “I thought you weren’t supposed to interfere with the like… _natural balance_. Or whatever.”

“Part of my work involves taking samples! And mushroom foraging is something that people totally do. If done conscientiously, it’s okay to borrow from the woods!”

“Isn’t it only borrowing if you return it later?” Killua asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you already returned that one!” he gestured downhill at the discarded mushroom Killua had chewed up. “And whether you like it or not… everything we take does find its way back… eventually,” he murmured, looking out across the tree tops.

Killua couldn’t argue with that. Or, perhaps, he wasn’t sure how to respond. His own gaze returned to the open air before them, the nothingness.

After a beat, Gon answered a question no one had asked: “I swiped those guys off a fallen tree earlier before we reached the tree line. It’s a sample… and a snack!” He smiled mischievously. “They can only be found this time of year, specifically after a thaw. We were here at just the right time! You should feel lucky.”

Killua rolled his eyes. The weird mood having shifted, he got up and began stretching his legs. He needed to prepare if they were really going to sprint back down. Not that he expected Gon to back down now.

He balanced on one foot, pulling the other leg back to wake up his hamstring.

As he shifted to work the other side, he noticed Gon was still seated. He sat tall, but motionless, eyes closed, feet meeting in a prayer. He was poised for a butterfly stretch, but was just sitting upright, breathing rhythmically.

“Do you ever stand at the edge of a cliff and wonder what it would feel like to jump?”

Killua eyed Gon, whose torso was now folded over his feet. He couldn’t see his face to search for the meaning behind his words.

Killua didn’t say anything for the entire duration that Gon held the stretch.

He almost jumped when Gon suddenly popped up. As if he hadn’t said anything unusual, he casually shrugged and gathered his things.

“Anyways, let’s run down! We can use the trail on that side over there,” he said, pointing. “It makes sense to have a course if we’re running!”

Killua nodded very seriously. “Yeah, this way you won’t collide face-first into a tree. Probably.”

Gon snorted as he adjusted the straps on his pack. “I thought it would be more fair for you, as someone unfamiliar with the area.”

“Eat my dust, Freecss!”

They hadn’t ever announced that it was a race. But as Killua brashly leapt off the peak towards the trail, he was putting every ounce of effort into each step he took. Not far behind (and only behind due to the unexpected head-start), Gon’s feet pounded into the dirt. Pebbles and fragments of slate scattered in his wake.

If any tourists were hiking the mountain this afternoon, they would be in for a nasty surprise.

Running with a backpack on is, as anyone will tell you, quite awkward. But if you cinch the straps enough and are focused on the running enough, you won’t really be weighed down by it.

And Killua was extremely focused on running. Approaching tunnel vision, he only had eyes for the stretch of earth a few feet directly in front of him. If he were to blink at the wrong time, he could wind up on his face in a split second, after all.

All it would take is one stone in the wrong place, or a single root reaching a bit too close to an ankle, but the proximity to a wipe-out is what made it exhilarating.

Unlike running on a flat surface, running downhill had the added element of gravity. Once he built up enough speed, he automatically moved forwards and downwards. It was all he could do to avoid falling and occasionally change direction.

The impact on his knees reverberated through his bones. The wind sliced through his face. This is the feeling he had been missing all these years.

Killua had never given up running, and he made a point of it. After the falling out with his family, he continued to run up and down the hills around the house, driving his mother insane (…more insane). That was how he got his own treadmill.  
But there was no substitute for running down a new mountain with someone else… someone that he trusted.

He was so fixated on his own two feet and the physical sensation of hurtling down a mountain that he almost didn’t notice Gon passing him.

Killua wouldn’t lose so easily. He dug in and let himself go, running without abandon. He toed the line of retaining any control; if he were to lose his balance now, he’d crash spectacularly. But there was no match for him when he ran like this. He felt the momentum heavy on his chest.

As Killua careened faster and faster, he just spurred Gon on to run more and more recklessly.

They zigzagged down the mountain’s switchbacks, skidding around the hairpin turns. The scenery was smeared to a blur. While they had leisurely taken in the natural beauty on the way up, their active vision was reduced to just the potential obstacles and the path before them.

Gon had a few close calls, slipping on loose soil, but managed to self-balance—wildly waving his arms about—before face planting. Killua cackled deviously each time. But he still always glanced when he heard Gon stumble, confirming that he steadied himself before refocusing on his own descent (just so he could avoid getting dragged down with him, obviously).

A hike that had taken them hours was undone in just a matter of minutes.

Gradually, the slope of the mountain decreased, and soon the path had entirely leveled out. The hillside curved off and the momentum sent the runners flying. Their legs still spun for a moment before their bodies recognized that they were on stable ground again.

They stopped.

The world spun around dizzily in their heads.

“Wow,” Gon huffed against the tree he was bent over.

Killua didn’t hear him over his own heart in his ears. He sat back against his backpack and chugged an entire water bottle.

“We should do that again,” Gon sighed.

Killua found just enough energy to snort.

~~~

It took a suspiciously long amount of time to get back to the campsite that day. It was getting dark.

Following behind Gon, Killua regrettably asked if they were lost. When Gon didn’t respond or even look back, Killua slung his bag onto just one shoulder so he could unzip it and rummage through its contents. He frowned when he couldn’t find what he was looking for: a map.

He must’ve left it by the tent.

“We’ll get there.” Gon said, shortly.

Killua pursed his lips and mentally counted how many stars were already visible.

By the time they got there, which they did, he had long lost count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters! 
> 
> I originally was going to write a small fluff piece but I just kept going. There might be some angst ahead! oops
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also don't eat things you find in the woods unless you _really_ know what you're doing...


	6. Sickener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Killua is contacted by an old friend, and Gon buys a larger variety of food.

He hadn’t made any plans.

His parents were away, which meant only one pair of eyes was trained on him right now: his older brother’s.

So, under the guise of preparing to goto the internship his grandfather picked out for him, he packed as many of his most essential things as he could without being conspicuous into his backpack, emptied his hard drive, and left—without so much as leaving a note on the fridge.

The internship was downtown, so by all appearances he seemed to be following the same schedule as usual, but as soon as he reached the inner city, he begun a mad dash to the bus depot. Of course, he only speed walked, so as not to draw attention. If the media saw him in this part of town… he couldn’t imagine tomorrow’s tabloids.

As soon as he walked through the doors, he realized he didn’t even know if any buses were departing soon, or which city he should try to flee to.

He didn’t have any plans.

All he knew was that he couldn’t put on a fake smile every day and do his family’s bidding any longer. He’d just have to figure out each next step as he got to it.

At this moment, he realized he had never had any plans. He had spent the past decade just biding his time. He approached the front desk.

~~~

Killua had been accompanying Gon on his studies for over a week. During this time he had learned a few things about himself.

One, he had really, _really_ , missed having a trail running partner. Just being able to experience the sheer joy of running downhill as fast as you can manage… he didn’t know how much he missed it until he was doing it.

Two, he had been craving the endless freedom found outdoors. He had thought he just wanted to be independent of his manipulative family, but being in an expanse of trees with no authorities was setting his expectations quite a bit higher than before.

Three, he was inexplicably fascinated with the weird fungi they kept finding. Sometimes it felt like each one was stranger or grosser or more warped than the last, but he felt more motivated to draw lately than ever before. He had a hunch it was the fungal inspiration. His sketchbook was like a physical collection of memories.

Each page evidence of a different journey, each sketch of a differently capped specimen reminded him of the hike, scramble, or climb that came before its discovery. Studies of their tent or campsite from a different angle were proof of the many times they’d set it up. Quick doodles of Gon’s expression after saying something particularly dumb served as ammunition Killua could use to mock him for later.

He had also learned some things about Gon. Like how he perked up when he encountered a mushroom they hadn’t yet seen… how he grumbled when Killua spotted it first, but still looked a bit proud. Or how he had a knack for tripping over things but somehow always avoided falling over; he could be the illustration next to the dictionary entry for ‘dumb luck’.

Even how he smiled—knowingly—when Killua insulted him, as if he could see right through it. Also, sometimes, how he smiled—softly—at the break of dawn when they happened to wake at the same time and meet eyes. And, especially, how he smiled—wildly—as he grabbed Killua’s hand to pull him along as he ran off to the next grand adventure.

But, also, Killua learned how determined Gon was about completing the study, at any cost. He would tiptoe along a narrow ledge, make a daring leap across a fast-moving river, or hike a ridgeline in a storm if it meant he could uncover an interesting organism.

Braving treacherous conditions would supposedly lead to discoveries that other ‘weaker’ researchers might never find, but Killua always urged Gon to take a step back and at least _consider_ a safer, if a bit more time-consuming, path. Gon conceded about every other time he was stopped.

~~~

After so many days in the field, it was time to take a break for a re-supply. And maybe a shower.

Killua held out a piece of paper, hastily torn from his sketchbook. Gon grabbed it. Looking down, he saw it was a mostly legible list of names of food. He looked back up.

“I’m sick of eating beans every night! It’s time for you to broaden your horizons.”

“Aren’t you gonna go shopping with me anyways?”

“Nah, I gotta hit the library. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back for half of it when we meet up later.”

Gon wasn’t worried about that, but he accepted that he was assigned the burden of grocery shopping today.

He watched as Killua popped his wheels out and Heelyed down the road, skidding around cars and pedestrians alike with the prowess of an Olympic figure skater. He wouldn’t miss any opportunities to show off his kicks.

~~~

Killua sauntered into the local library, sizing it up (he had clicked the wheels back in before entering). It was mostly… books. Books and old people. He shuddered.

Swallowing his pride, he approached the librarian at the information desk and asked for help: “Hi… uh, do you have a computer I can borrow?”

She nodded, her grey hair bobbing. She gave him a tiny pencil to fill out some paperwork. In return, he was given a card and directed to a row of three computers by a window.

Typing in the details on the card, he finally had access to the internet. He stretched his wrists out and leaned back in the flimsy desk chair as he waited for it to finally boot up.

As the screen flickered on, he opened the default internet browser on the machine (yes, _that_ one), and quickly logged onto _HIM_ : Hunter Instant Messenger.

Opening the application, he kept his status invisible and scanned over his buddy list. No one was online right now. That wasn’t unusual, as his list wasn’t exactly long. He didn’t even need to scroll to see all the users.

There was an unread conversation to deal with, but he instead selected **nanika** from the list of offline users. This was the screen name his little sister, Alluka, chose when he first set up her account. It was their primary means of communication since she moved out of the house to attend college. For years, she dreamt of studying philosophy, and while the Zoldycks did not typically receive any public education, her parents jumped at the opportunity to physically remove one of their problems. (She didn’t garner the 'right type of press’ for the family name.)

Opening their past conversation log, Killua smiled to himself. It was filled with messages from his sister describing her college shenanigans and mishaps. He was thankful his parents made at least one good parenting decision: allowing her to leave and attend the school she wanted. Maybe he could convince Gon to visit her campus with him… His smiled immediately dropped. Who put that thought in his mind? It certainly wasn’t his.

Forcing himself back on track, he started typing a long-winded message to Alluka. He knew she would complain about it later; she always said he wrote too much and that she didn’t have time to read it… She’d say, “tl;dr”. Or, she would, if this wasn’t a serious matter.

**SK8ORDIE69** : Hi Alluka. I hope your human ethics project is going well. and that you’re doing your readings!!! I haven’t been IMing you recently because I’ve been backpacking. I know what you’re thinking… with my complexion??? lol no but for srs. Sorry, you know how I like to joke when I’m avoiding the subject. I wanted you to hear this from me. Basically, I ran away from the house and I’m deciding my own fate from here on out. For now, I am living a more…….rustic lifestyle. I can think about my next steps in peace, and I’m basically untraceable. And don’t worry, I’m not alone. I met someone. We’ve been camping together. And it’s been nice. He’s a mycologist. Well… he’s a naturalist currently studying mycology. You would probably find it interesting. I promise to give you more details the next time I’m able to. It probably won’t be for another week or so. But yea. I just wanted you to know what was happening. And that I’m okay. Hopefully, one day we can be okay together. I love you. Make good choices!!! kk bye xoxo

Without bothering to proofread, Killua hit send. The computer played a tone to indicate as such, and he frantically hit the decrease volume button. He didn’t expect Alluka to coincidentally come online right now, so he minimized the _HIM_ app, and lazily browsed the web.

He scrolled through a news website briefly, until he saw a picture of his father and violently closed the window. He opened a new window and researched some popular camping recipes. Finally, something useful. He took notes on the meals that spoke to him.

He was considering opening one of the forums he used to be active in, when the computer made another sound. Apparently he had failed to turn the volume all the way off. After assessing the other patrons and making sure no one was glaring at him, he reopened the messaging service.

One of his old messaging buddies from the forums was online. And, despite not displaying his availability (he had set his status to ‘invisible’), he had just been sent a message from them. Sometimes, coincidences do happen.

**takoyaki** : hey dude. haven’t heard from ya in a while

**SK8ORDIE69** : how did u know i was online

**takoyaki** : I didn’t! I was just thinking about you  
 **takoyaki** : r art  
 **takoyaki** : thinking about your art

****SK8ORDIE69**** : o lol

**takoyaki** : so whats up

**SK8ORDIE69** : kinda a lot  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i dont have that much time left idk

**takoyaki** : WHAT  
 **takoyaki** : hey tony what r u saying?????? r u ok!!!!!!

(Killua used the name ‘Tony’ and/or some variant of ‘skate or die’ in online forums and when he posted his art. He was living his best skater life.)

**SK8ORDIE69** : lmao

**takoyaki** : :(

**SK8ORDIE69** : bro chill i dont have that much time left on my computer!!  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : im at the library

**takoyaki** : oh. why

**SK8ORDIE69** : like i said. long story.

**takoyaki** : well you can usually ask for more time as long as the library isnt popping

**SK8ORDIE69** : o shit! ok brb

Killua hopped up, chair scraping annoyingly against floor. (Was everything louder in the library?) He pleaded his case to the librarian from before, who gave him a new card without hesitation. There wasn’t anyone queued up to use the computers, after all.

He repeated the process of logging back in, and immediately resumed his conversation with his pen pal, Tako. They had first started corresponding over the forum Killua used to post his work to. Tako had made a point to comment on every single work, be it a finished illustration or just a sketch.

But that’s not why Killua agreed to message them directly off the site; Tako wasn’t just buttering him up with hollow compliments. They would offer constructive criticism, sometimes taking on the role of a harsh critic. But the critique genuinely helped Killua to improve. It was the push he needed.

He had been surprised when his most devoted follower asked if he had a _HIM_ account. He didn’t. Tako explained it was an invite-only messaging service, possibly the most secure messenger in existence, which was precisely the level of security that Killua needed at the time.

They begun chatting as often as Killua could get away with. Years later, they were still close (yet far) friends.

**SK8ORDIE69** : im back

**takoyaki** : good thing one of us has been to a library before! ok. spill.

**SK8ORDIE69** : yea ok. so you remember how i said living at home sucks right?

**takoyaki** : ya. did something happen

**SK8ORDIE69** : big time.  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i up and left dude!

**takoyaki** : wut. no joke?

**SK8ORDIE69** : am i  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : a jokester?

**takoyaki** : Yes.

**SK8ORDIE69** : uughh asdhfasdgjsg well i am 10000% serious

**takoyaki** : where r u now?  
 **takoyaki** : do u have somewhere to stay?  
 **takoyaki** : r u a fugitive

**SK8ORDIE69** : classified, yes, and maybe

**takoyaki** : dang thats cool!!  
 **takoyaki** : I mean. I’m glad you have somewhere else to stay?

**SK8ORDIE69** : why is that a question

**takoyaki** : I’m just wondering where you are….  
 **takoyaki** : like if you’re safe  
 **takoyaki** : and okay

**SK8ORDIE69** : tako do not worry about me. i got it taken care of. trust me.  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i am safe and okay!!!  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i will tell u this: i have been camping. so i wont be online much

**takoyaki** : you  
 **takoyaki** : …  
 **takoyaki** : camping

**SK8ORDIE69** : yea u wanna be a wise guy huh?????

**takoyaki** : where did you even get a tent?

**SK8ORDIE69** : i didnt get a tent. im sharing someone elses

Killua watched, half amused, as Tako began typing, then stopped typing, then began again, several times. Was it that hard to believe he could handle camping? He didn’t think he came off as that type of person; he only spent so much time in his room due to the circumstances.

**SK8ORDIE69** : What.

**takoyaki** : nothing  
 **takoyaki** : I just  
 **takoyaki** : who is this person

**SK8ORDIE69** : ????????????????  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : does it matter? yea theyre more experienced than i am if thats what ur wondering.

**takoyaki** : !!!!!!!!!  
 **takoyaki** : oh like, they camp a lot?

**SK8ORDIE69** : yea..?

Killua was wondering what Tako was going on about now. Perhaps they were just more concerned about Killua’s wellbeing than he thought.

Killua was about to virtually confront Tako, when he noticed someone approaching the closest window. He looked up to see Gon plastering his face up against it and tapping the glass like a child at the zoo. Killua tried to shoo him away, but Gon was determined to be a nuisance after spending the afternoon apart with no one to bother.

He held up his index finger, signaling that he’d be done in a minute, and only then did the childish tapping cease.

He looked back at the screen. Tako was typing. Ignoring his usually _very_ polite internet etiquette, he starting typing too. Tako deleted whatever they had been typing immediately.

**SK8ORDIE69** : i actually have to go right now, tako.  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i will talk again when im back between the stacks  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i mean the library. if u didnt know

**takoyaki** : yea, yea, I know.  
 **takoyaki** : how long do I have to wait?

**SK8ORDIE69** : bro if u got something urgent to say, say it now

**takoyaki** : naahhh. nothing important

**SK8ORDIE69** : ooooookaaaaay  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : well i might be back in a week. but i really dont know  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : but i promise gon knows what hes doing and im totally awesome at camping!!!!

**takoyaki** : dude never doubted u for a sec!  
 **takoyaki** : …….gon?

**SK8ORDIE69** : yea hes the guy im with  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : hes also the guy whos gonna be annoying if i dont go meet him soon  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i will talk to you later tako!!!! byeeeeee

**takoyaki** : bye, tony

Killua logged out and turned off the computer hastily. Gon was still standing by the window, looking bored. Killua dropped his cards off at the front of the library. As he walked back outside, he remembered he never opened the new messages he had received last week.

He shrugged to himself; that guy tends to send a deluge of irrelevant messages every other day. He probably just wanted to play some dumb game together or something.

He stepped outside to see Gon actually twiddling his thumbs.

“Killua!” he greeted as if it had been years since they last saw each other.

“Hey, Gon,” Killua couldn’t help but match his energy.

~~~

“So, did you take care of business?”

“Huh?”

“I know you didn’t goto the library to read… although maybe it’d be nice to check out some books…”

“Oh. You’re right. About _not_ reading, that is,” he paused, thinking. “I think I took care of business? I at least sent a message to my sister, which was my main goal.” He wasn’t sure about the other messages he had sent.

“Your sister? What’s she like?”

Killua was happy to oblige, and began rambling about his fantastic, amazing, and brilliant sister, Alluka. Gon was happy to listen.

“You know what, I can show you a picture of her, actually!” Killua paused in his ramblings to pat his pockets. From his left pants pocket he retrieved his sketchbook.

It flipped opened right to the correct page, as if the binding had been folded to that spread many times. He gently transferred it to Gon’s open hands.

As if trying to absorb every detail into a permanent file in his brain, he held it close to his face and admired it dutifully. He tilted it this way and that, turning it about.

“Killua…” he whispered, trailing off.

“Yeah?”

“This is beautiful,” he said it like he was reciting a fact.

Killua hummed his agreement. “Mhm, isn’t she just the cutest?”

“No, I mean… yes, but, I meant that your drawing of her is beautiful!”

“Oh.”

“Really! I can finally say that you definitively belong in a museum!… Your work, that is…” Gon stopped, looking a little put off by his slight error, before leaning in even closer to the page. “What’s… hey, this date is from when we met! Did you draw this on the bus?”

“Yeah,” Killua slowly admitted, expecting to be told off for lying about it that day.

“You must be really close with her!”

“Huh?”

“You were already drawing her just a day after you left!”

Killua had to laugh at that. “I guess you’re right.” He was getting too sentimental. “She is my favorite person in the world. She’s off pursuing her dream right now. I’m so proud,”

“What about you?”

“What _about_ me?” he asked a little more aggressively than intended.

Gon snorted, but his eyes remained serious. “What’s your dream?”

“I…,” Killua started. His face contorted as he drew his eyebrows together. “I don’t know. Whatever,” he hissed.

“What did you want to do when you were a kid?” Gon persisted.

Without pausing to think at all, he answered: “Art.”

“Do you still like making art?” Gon asked, looking back down at the drawing of Alluka.

Killua nodded a bit. He couldn’t deny that much. “I don’t know how feasible it is to… pursue it. I’ve always been told I wouldn’t be able to do it professionally. It’s just a hobby.”

“Killua, anything is just a hobby unless you take it seriously! You’ve seen what I do for my 9 to 5,” he said with a smile. “Just think about it! For me,” his smile grew.

Killua agreed to think about it.

~~~

Setting up camp had become second nature at this point; they had done it so many times together already. They didn’t move camp every single day, but with each phase of the study, they usually chose to relocate for convenience. The refuge was vast. And the ease of settling down closer outweighed the burden of packing everything up.

Gon tied his hammock up again. He said it was necessary furniture. He always put it up. Something about livening up the place.

Sometimes they would sit in it together, side-to-side, kicking their legs to make it swing wildly while trying not to spill their morning coffee.

While Gon was tossing the end of the strap around the base of the tree towards his other hand, missing, picking it up and trying again with a bit of grumbling, Killua was starting on dinner.

He had taken the lead on meals after Gon purchased better ingredients. He experimented with new recipes when it was his turn, and he urged Gon to try some new recipes, just something, anything, that wasn’t bean-based, when it was his day to cook. Which isn’t to say that he stopped cooking beans entirely.

Killua had read through the recipes scrawled in his sketchbook, and decided today was the day to make the ambitious camp pizza.

It turned out just about as good as you’d expect a pizza cooked over an open fire in the woods to be. But at least it wasn’t beans.

~~~

Sometimes Gon appeared to have it all figured out. Killua envied him for it. He wished he could figure anything out.

Gon _maybe_ didn’t follow plans all that often, but he at least always had a destination in mind. He used sheer willpower to get there. Killua didn’t know where he was going. He hadn’t even chosen the town the bus dropped them both off at.

It had taken him almost 20 years just to realize he didn’t want the same outcome for himself that his parents wished for. And now that he was here, what was he hoping to accomplish? Was there a point to this farce?

That night, Killua lay awake wrapped in his sleeping bag, curled like a pill bug that had been startled by a child’s curious hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to play around with the chat-fic format without committing to it entirely. Let me know if the formatting/Killua's lazy typing is irritating to read.
> 
> Also, while this takes place in "modern times", as you can maybe tell by the state of the internet/technology, it's kinda vaguely set in the late 90's-early 2000's.  
> Given the time period, Killua would totally be really into Tony Hawk.
> 
> Can you guess who Killua's friend is? >.>


	7. Morel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One Where They Go in a Cave

Ever since visiting town, Killua had been feeling… off. The conversation he had had over instant message was a bit strange. His longtime friend, Tako, hadn’t seemed too impressed by his current living situation. Did they not like that he was living in the outdoors? Or did they just not trust Gon?

Even though they had only exchanged text, Killua hadn’t spent the last several years messaging Tako to not pick up on their subtext. Their apprehension was clear. Killua had felt confident in his quickly-developing survival skills, and he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he did trust his loud-mouthed nature-loving companion. So what was Tako’s deal?

He also felt uneasy about what Gon had said after seeing his drawing of his sister. For Gon’s sake, he had promised to consider art seriously, professionally, as a career. But Killua already knew that was it was but a pipe dream. It was utterly unrealistic; he’d never be cut out for that.

He had known this fact since he was in diapers, drawing stick figures on the walls in crayon. His older brothers teased him for his crude abilities, and his parents insisted he spend his time on something productive. He was always urged to drop the hobby growing up, to focus on an area he might actually be successful at.

But he was an artist by habit, so he continued to maintain a discreet sketchbook. His drawings were purely for his own benefit (and sometimes the benefit of strangers on the internet, but that’s another story). Despite the snide comments from his family, he knew he had technical skill; he could depict any object or person with an uncanny resemblance. But he fell flat when he tried to explore anything even vaguely non-representational.

He knew that he’d never be taken seriously as a capital ‘a’ Artist. And he knew (now) that he would never follow the wishes of his parents, becoming another pawn to expand their political influence.

So, what if he never came up with anything else? What was to become of his life now?

Each night that he didn’t get any proper sleep brought more and more stress onto him.

~~~

The next mission was underground. Although it didn’t matter too much what time of day it was in a cave, they set out in the morning. For this expedition, they had to pack light, both in the sense of not bringing extra weight and in the sense of bringing a source of light, as it was rather dark down there. Gon only had one flashlight that could be worn as a headband, so Killua would have to do with a small handheld backup. “Just stay close to me!” Gon had reassured him. Besides that, they really only needed the essentials: water, food, and Gon’s research tools.

They left the campsite and headed towards one of the rivers nearby. They searched the hillside along the river, paying close attention to the different rock formations peeking through. Between two slabs of boulder leaning against each other, Gon found an entrance. There was a crevice just wide enough to slide through sideways.

Killua looked on as Gon slithered in, disappearing into the earth. And then he clicked his headlamp on, beckoning from within. “Come on in, the cave is just right!”

Killua rolled his eyes and approached the hole. Turning sideways and wiggling his body through it, he cried, “This hole was made just for me!”

Trying not to laugh, Gon playfully slapped him for that once he was in. He deserved it.

They ventured further into the cave, walking slightly hunched over beneath the low ceiling. Despite the narrow entrance, it was decently spacious inside, so they made quick work of it. Maybe 30 seconds in, it was already extremely dark. Not much light made its way back there.

Gon clicked his headlamp to the highest setting. When he swiveled around to hand Killua the backup, all the settling dust and rock particles could be seen through the beam of light. It almost looked like a fine snow.

Killua pocketed the flashlight; he didn’t want to drop it into an abyss or something. He opted to follow closely behind Gon instead for now.

They set off again. While everything was rough and dusty at first, the path started pitching downwards. As they headed in the direction of the center of the planet, the atmosphere started getting damper, and the ground became a slightly muddy clay. That wasn’t the first thing Killua noticed, though.

Once they entered the wet part of the cave, the ceilings were suddenly covered in still-forming stalactites. The ends were dewy, and some of them dripped onto Killua’s head. There were large columns of weird twisting rock along the walls. The rock glistened where the light hit it. Killua pulled out his flashlight to better inspect the formations.

“Make sure to not touch anything that’s wet!” Gon reminded him. “You might interfere with the growing process.”

“Yes, sir,” Killua replied in a monotone. “I’m just looking.”

“That means the formations, specifically. The wet clay on the ground, on the other hand…” Gon trailed off.

Killua looked up at his mischievous tone, only to receive a large helping of mud directly to the face.

He pulled off his free facial and scooped up his own fistful of clay, flinging it at Gon with all the force he could muster. It splattered across his shirt satisfyingly.

Once they were both covered in mud, they shook on a truce and ended the war. They began exchanging pinch pots and tiny snowmen, rather than violence.

As Killua tried to peel the dried muck off of him, Gon investigated some of the damp spots in the room. He was cataloguing the fungi growth in this cave as part of a matched pair comparative study; he would be comparing this data with that of similar fungal species found above ground. He unzipped the plastic pouch his notes were in, and wrote something down before replacing them and facing Killua again.

“Now that we’re dirty and disgusting—“

“Oh, _now_?”

“—how would you like to try some _advanced_ exploration techniques?” Gon wiggled his eyebrows.

Killua smirked. “Try me.”

Gon pulled him over to one of the dark, damp spots he had just been taking notes on. “See that weird stuff on the wall?” He waited for Killua to confirm, yes, he sees it. “I bet there’s more of it through there,” he tilted his head down, pointing his light at a small hole on the floor of the cave right beside the fungus.

Killua looked blankly at Gon.

“So, the advanced technique, is to go through there and tell me if you see more.”

Killua continued to look blankly at Gon.

Gon removed his headlamp and placed it on Killua’s head, pulling it snug around his forehead. “There! Okay. Tell me what you see,” he said.

“I see an idiot,”

“No! Go in there and then tell me what you see!”

Killua grimaced, but decided to give it the old fashioned try. He squared up to the hole, dropping flat to his stomach in the clay. Extending his arms straight in front of him, he pushed himself through the opening with his legs. He learned at this very moment that he was not claustrophobic. The passageway itself wasn’t very long. He inched through it with his feet and hands until he reached the other side and made an escape. He was in another room. The cave seemed to continue from here.

“Killua?” echoed out of the tunnel.

“Oh shit, I have both the lights,” Killua realized.

“It’s okay, I can just follow the sound of your voice. Do you see anything good in there?”

“Uh… I’m not really sure what exactly I’m looking for. That blackish fungus right?”

“Any fungus!”

“Okay… maybe? I see some? I definitely see more passages deeper into the cave.”

“I’ll meet you over there! Just keep talking.”

“Okay. I am in a cave. You are in a cave. It’s kinda muddy. I just crawled through the world’s smallest hole. There’s a joke to be made about that somewhere. We have two lights. I hope we don’t lose them—“

“Killua! I’m here. You can stop now. Can I have the backup?”

“Sure.” He handed over the flashlight from his pocket.

“Definitely seeing some fungal activity in here too,” Gon murmured. “You did good, crawling through that! Most people have to work there way down to that size. I had a feeling you’d be able to do it from the start, though!” Gon boasted. “You’re a real salamander!”

They explored the rest of the cave, thoroughly checking each room they were able to gain access to. As they got closer to an underground rivulet, everything looked more and more like a different world. There were tiny islands and sloping hills of mud. Different types of rock and stone sparkled on the ceiling. By the tiny stream of running water, the ground was extremely muddy. Killua guffawed as Gon’s hiking boots got trapped in the thick mud. He whined until Killua rescued him, yanking him free by the underside of his arms.

Gon wanted to explore the watery passageway from which the rivulet formed. There was only a few inches of air above the water, literally not much breathing room. It was doable with a craned neck. Killua reminded him that he had _just_ gotten stuck in the damn mud. They agreed to stick to dry land (dryish, anyways).

Upon reaching the turn-around point, blocked from further exploration by their size (they simply couldn’t fit through any of the channels here), Gon sat down on a relatively flat rock bench and patted the space next to him. Killua obliged. Gon switched off his flashlight and reached over to tilt Killua’s head towards him. The last thing Killua saw was his rueful smirk before everything went black. He blinked a couple times, but there was no difference between what he saw with his eyes closed or open.

He tried to stand up and look around for… something… visible, but something held him back. Oh. It was just Gon’s hand still perched on top of his head. The hand withdrew itself with the motion of him standing up into it, though. Instead, the hand held firmly onto his shoulder.

“Don’t go running around in the dark” Gon whispered in a mockingly scolding voice.

“Oh. Why did you turn the lights off?” he whispered back, copying the other.

“You aren’t _scared_ are you, Killua?” he asked playfully. Killua wasn’t sure what he was feeling. “You’re not afraid of the dark are you?” Gon continued to taunt.

Killua brushed his hand off his shoulder. “I’m not.”

“Great! Then let’s try sitting like this and see what our minds conjure in the absence of light. Don’t talk either,” Gon breathed.

Killua rolled his eyes before realizing that Gon couldn’t see the look of scorn on his face. He sighed, but didn’t say anything else.

He tried to focus on what his eyes could still pick up. The afterimage of Gon’s face before his, about to sneakily switch off his headlamp appeared. He really wasn’t even being that sneaky when he did it, Killua was just… caught off guard. His mind filled with excuses and he shook his head to try to empty it.

The sound of Gon breathing in and out filled his ears. Did he always breathe this loudly? Or was he just sitting close—how close were they sitting, exactly? Killua fought back the urge to poke at him and measure the distance. He also restrained himself from inching away; he knew Gon would notice and have something to say about it.

But the more time stretched on, and the more Gon breathed (which… was undoubtedly necessary), the more Killua couldn’t ignore it. All he could hear, think about, and see, was Gon.

Before the reasonable part of his brain could console the dumbass part of it, he reached over and poked the air to test the distance between them.

Unsurprisingly, he really was just a few inches away.

Surprisingly, he had nailed Gon right on his side, where he was most ticklish, causing him to yelp and hop away.

“Not fair, Killua!” he whined from a few feet away.

“Don’t run around in the dark,” Killua solemnly replied. The momentary feeling of victory he had for turning the phrase back on him was not worth alerting Gon of his exact location.

Killua realized his mistake the instant the last word left his lips. The intentional silence echoed around the room until Gon pounced on him and took his revenge.

“G-Gon! Hahaha quit it!” Killua tried to protest but could only giggle. He slapped at him to no avail. Gon didn’t cease until he got smacked square in the head.

“Oof—ow, Killua…”

“Oh, sorry, was that you?” He wasn’t sorry. “My bad. I can’t see anything in here, actually. Weird.” He shrugged sarcastically, as if anyone could see it.

Gon concluded his retribution by adorning Killua’s face with a free mud facial, one last time. Today was a two-for-one special.

Killua lost the fight, but won the war when he had the bright idea to switch his headlamp back on in that moment, blinding poor Gon from point blank.

Gon hissed through his teeth, and melted to the ground, covering his eyes with his hands.

~~~

He recovered and they began retracing their steps and undoing their crawls back through the cave.

“So did your mind play any tricks on you in the dark? Did you see anything cool?” Gon asked.

“…” Killua’s silence was heavy. Finally, he snorted, “Nothing cool.”

“What does that mean? So you did see something?” Gon’s questions went unanswered.

~~~

Killua was beginning to sense a pattern. He wasn’t sure if Gon was trying to be cool by never using a map, compass, or any discernible navigational system. About every other trip they went on took twice as long one way as the other, and it wasn’t because they were that exhausted at the end of the day. Killua would have to had ran many miles to move this sluggishly.

Furthermore, Killua knew by now that offering they use his park map, which he had to replace twice because it kept vanishing, would only cause Gon to bristle and the return trip to take even longer.

Since they took an entirely different route in the afternoon than the morning, sometimes Gon would stumble upon new research material. But Killua had an inkling that this was purely a coincidence, and while Gon may claim he was being more efficient this way, Killua knew, deep down, that they were lost.

And while it was also true that Gon had a strong talent for finding his way, even when completely turned about, his methods did not impress Killua.

The process of caving: finding a cave, doing whatever inside, and then exiting the cave, could be boiled down to two essential components. To be able to enter, one must already know where a cave is. To be able to exit, one must have a strong sense of direction, ideally a map, and a system of keeping track of which paths were taken and when.

Killua had his misgivings…

as they were still in the cave.

He decided to not say anything.

~~~

What was intended to be a short study on the fungal climate of the cave turned into a day-long venture. By the time they left (escaped), the sun was setting.

Killua gasped in the fresh air. Gon pretended not to notice.

~~~

During this night’s tradition of Killua staring blankly at the top of the tent, where the poles and taut fabric folded together, he found himself picking up on the sounds nearby again. With the stars and the moon illuminating the sky, he could still see his surroundings, slightly cast in a navy blue light. The sound of restless insects filled the night air outside the tent, but his ears were only tuned in to the breathing of the sleeping body beside him.

Fast asleep, Gon inhaled and exhaled to a slow, persistent rhythm. At least he wasn’t snoring tonight.

Previously, in the cave, he had tried to imagine what Gon’s face looked like, in the absence of being able to actually check. Now, he just had to shift a tad to see his face, the outline of it faintly visible.

Killua humored his darkest thoughts. What would he do if one day, the man before him slipped up? Was it an inevitability?

Subconsciously, he imagined softly sleeping Gon, not asleep in a warm sleeping bag in a shared tent, but still in the cave, still searching for an exit. Stubbornly pushing on, perhaps one or both of the lights go out due to the passage of time. Refusing to mark the way they had traveled on the walls with chalk or on a paper map with a pen. Would he apologize to Killua, for having to share the same fate because of his foolishness? Or would he maintain that ‘they’d be out soon’ until the very end?

Killua didn’t distrust Gon. But he did think Gon was irresponsible. And he knew the maps from the parking lot weren’t disappearing on their own.

~~~

As the days progressed, Gon started getting impatient. The study was taking longer than planned. When he was accepted onto the project, he was allocated funding, but it was finite, and it wouldn’t last much longer. As much as his heart was in the work, he couldn’t afford to do it on his own wallet. He had to budget carefully for tools, equipment, and basic necessities. After setting aside some funding for those, he only had enough to support a few weeks of research, and there was less than one week left.

Generally, chances of seeing fungi were higher when it was wet or dark (ideally, both). In order to capitalize on these conditions, Gon had the bright idea to start expanding his work hours into the night. If he didn’t record all of the key species he was assigned, his whole project would be deemed a failure. So he needed all the time he could get. If he lost sleep over it, it was better to lose sleep by choice now than lose sleep later, up all night regretting his mistakes again.

It wouldn’t be surprising if he got more careless with less sleep. But, as Gon grew impatient, he also grew desperate. In instances where Killua may have swayed him before—“no, you can’t fit through that” or “you shouldn’t go that way, that’s a bunch of brambles and thorns, dummy” or “let’s just come back here tomorrow and try again”—he was no longer was compliant.

~~~

When it finally happened, it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone. People raised differently, coming from different backgrounds, with different predispositions and aspirations… it’s guaranteed they won’t always agree, right?

_There was a reason he didn’t have any friends._

_The last time he got close to someone… everyone just got burned._

As soon as Gon raised his voice at him, Killua just stopped listening. It’s not like they hadn’t shouted at each other before, but before it was the punchline of a joke, a means to be heard, a sign of excitement. It’s different being yelled _at_.

Gon’s work was important to the ecology world, but it was even more important to him. This was his first time leading a study since his catastrophic failure. He had to do it. He had to do it on his own terms.

When Killua challenged him, he unknowingly lit his fuse. It’s not like they hadn’t tested each other before, but before it was a game, a means to pass the time, a sign of friendship. It’s different having your _self_ be questioned.

_If nothing else, Killua was skilled at learning and following rules. (This was why he excelled at games)_

_He knew what it meant to be yelled at. And so he did as he always did, his entire life._

Gon had waited so, so long to be able to do this. In the end, he wasn’t going to let someone he just met stand in his way.

_Killua made himself small, and agreed._

_Gon did what he had to, swallowed his feelings, and left._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost hesitated posting this one. Here it is.
> 
> Also,  
> I wanted to include Morel Mackernasey as some sort of mushroom-related punchline, but it just never came to me.  
> Comment your Morel jokes below


	8. False Morel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Killua really goes through it, and Palm is super cool.

Killua had every intention of lying face-down in the tent all day. Normally the gentle sound of the rain bouncing off the thin material like fingers tapping on a drum would lull him into a meditative state instantly.

But instead he was about to rip his hair out.

He wasn’t sure why he blew up at Gon like that.

Thinking about it hurt, in the physical sense. His chest couldn’t expand fully, but it also couldn’t entirely release the breath stuck in it. His stomach felt like it was in a washing machine. Spin set to high. Temperature set to ice cold.

So did what he normally did. He went on a walk.

~~~

Outside, the rain pelted against Gon’s hammock. It swung about sadly.

He numbly commanded his legs to move forward. He tried not to think about it. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t stop his insides from going through spin cycle after spin cycle, around and around. He didn’t bother to try to stop the tears. His face would’ve been soaked either way, as he hadn’t bothered to put on a proper rain jacket.

Before he knew it, he was exiting the park entirely, and was walking down the street towards town.

He almost didn’t notice the truck pulling up, slowly driving alongside him. He didn’t look over until the driver started honking.

He jumped at the sound, and meekly watched as the nearest window rolled down. The lady with the coffee pot, Palm, was scrutinizing him as if she was looking at a particularly sad case of road kill. At least, that’s how Killua interpreted it.

“Hey… Killua,” she called his name as if she was proud of herself for remembering. “It’s me, Palm! How’s about you hop in?”

Killua didn’t have a reason to protest. He approached the passenger seat.

“Wait!” She called out. “Sit in the backseat. Trust me,” she laughed.

He obeyed.

He sat completely silent. Somehow, being in another’s presence was enough embarrassment to shock his system into complying. After he wiped his sleeves over his face, it remained dry.

He audibly sniffled, just a little.

Rather than say too much, Palm did not question him and only spoke about herself.

“So, you already know I work at the local diner. Well, as you can imagine, that’s not the only thing I want out of this life!” She chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, everyone who works there is great. And so are the people who stop in! I have met some interesting people,” She winked in the mirror. The joke didn’t land.

“Ah… anyhoo. I’m just a part-timer there. Today, I have off, so I’m headed to the workplace of my main occupation. Are you curious? Or do you not want to spoil the surprise? Maybe you want to be shocked to your core when we arrive!”

“What is it?”

“He speaks!” Finally making eye contact through the rear-view mirror, she sees he is glaring at her. It isn’t too intimidating on his puffy, reddish face. His wet hair dangled over his eyes. She sighs. “I’m a free-lance artist.”

Killua’s irritation fluidly shifts to surprise, hope, and then curiosity. Leaning over the console from the back, he asks, “What kind?”

“Not too observant, eh?” She pointed to the front seat.

Killua turned his head to see the third passenger in the truck : a long canvas as tall as him propped against the headrest.

“I wasn’t expecting any hitchhikers today,” she explained, as if it explained everything.

~~~

When they got to Palm’s place, she insisted that Killua take a shower. Not necessarily because he smelled bad (not that living outside did wonders for the body odor), but because he was drenched to the bone and she was frankly concerned.

She presented him with a simple outfit, with the promise that she would also wash and dry his current clothes before he left.

He accepted the clothes gingerly and took off for the bathroom.

Palm unloaded the truck and got back to work.

~~~

Finally convinced that he had washed away all the dried tears and bad vibes, Killua exited the shower and inspected the clothes he had been given. In his hands were a normal looking pair of joggers and an oversized tee-shirt with an absolutely incomprehensible design on the front of it. The design was only printed in the three primary colors, but trying to figure out what was depicted hurt Killua’s brain. There was a figure? No, two figures. Maybe. He gave up and just put it on.

He walked back out into the main portion of the house. The kitchen and living area were sort of crammed together. Some might call it efficient. He saw some closed doors, but didn’t feel comfortable snooping around. He sat on the couch, instead.

Perhaps alerted by the sound of the water turning off, Palm suddenly reappeared. She was wearing the same exact shirt, except hers had some additions to it: bright splotches of paint across it.

Seeing Killua model the same piece as her caused her to double over, loudly cackling. For what felt like the first time in days, Killua also started laughing.

~~~

Palm’s studio was upstairs. The ceiling was a little higher than downstairs, and large windows and skylights allowed in the natural light. It was a bit grey today, though, so the industrial-looking ceiling lights were on.

Almost every surface was covered with larger-than-life sketches on rolls of paper or giant, mural-size paintings on every type of backing imaginable: stretched canvas, planks of wood, various scraps, and the walls themselves. There was just space enough to walk around (via tip-toe).

Some of the paintings were of larger-than-life caricatures of different people Killua had seen in town, even the librarian. Most of them were as nebulous as the designs on the fronts of their matching shirts, though. Bright colors and bold shapes danced around the room. Together, they made up life-like scenes from another world that almost resembled something familiar to the squinted eye, but didn’t actually depict anything in existence.

“Are you shocked?” she grinned.

Killua nodded fervently. “Yeah, this workspace is awesome! This is like, exactly what I want.”

“Oh? Are you also an artist, then?”

Killua nodded with less vigor. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, I want to be. I think.”

“Less thinking, more doing!” she sung. “Hold out your hands,” she said while holding hers out, palm upwards, until he repeated the gesture. She then placed a long, thin paintbrush into his hands, as if she were bequeathing a sword and he was starting a quest.

Killua eyed the item in awe, then looked back up.

“Paint, my child,” she tried to say in a serious tone, but giggled as she gestured to a stack of blank canvases in the corner.

~~~

Killua stared blankly at the piece of scrap wood he had selected. It stared right back at him, just as blank. Despite being surrounded by all of Palm’s pieces, he couldn’t find any inspiration.

Hoping not to disappoint her, he quietly approached her, holding the paintbrush like a foreign object as he poked her shoulder.

She spun around and read his face, but didn’t take her brush back. She just raised an eyebrow.

“If it’s okay with you… maybe I’ll try painting later. I need to goto the library, actually.”

“Oh? Starting your summer reading list early?” she joked.

“Just borrowing the computer.”

She snapped her fingers like she just solved a complex math problem. “Hey, stick around then, kid! Just use mine downstairs!”

She led him through one of the previously-closed doors. Along the side of the new room was a simple desktop setup on a long desk. In front of the computer was a beanbag chair. A standard rolling desk chair sat in the corner, appearing unused.

Palm politely laughed, saying he could use whichever chair he preferred. Killua didn’t bother rearranging the furniture and sunk down in front of the computer. He placed the still-clean paintbrush on the desk beside the mouse.

After asking if he’d like a hot beverage—“Yes, hot cocoa, please,”—she excused herself.

Killua booted up the computer and switched on the monitor. He lazily shook the mouse back and forth as everything loaded. Palm already had the _HIM_ desktop application installed. He clicked the icon. Thankfully, she hadn’t left it logged on to her account. Killua typed in his credentials.

He immediately clicked on **takoyaki** ’s username. They were already online.

**SK8ORDIE69** : heyyyy

**takoyaki** : dude! how’s life in the woods, ya animal??

**SK8ORDIE69** : its  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : fine

**takoyaki** : dude…  
 **takoyaki** : dont act like I’m ur mom and I just asked about ur day

**SK8ORDIE69** : lololol  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : ok  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : im not actually in the woods rn

**takoyaki** : ya??? duh???

**SK8ORDIE69** : oh right.  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i mean like…………  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : gon is still out there but i came back to town. im staying at someone elses house

**takoyaki** : ok good

**SK8ORDIE69** : ?

**takoyaki** : I mean like. its probably too soon for that kind of relationship

**SK8ORDIE69** : what.

**takoyaki** : u kno

**SK8ORDIE69** : no. i dont.

**takoyaki** : sharing a tent every night dude? Im not stupid

Killua started typing a response, then frantically smashed the backspace key, shaking his head. He repeated this process several times, until he just stopped. Behind him, Palm asked him what had him in a tizzy. He barely recognized that anyone was speaking over the blood rushing to his head. Not wanting to push him, she just set down his warm beverage next to him, on a handmade coaster.

It hadn’t been like that right? With Gon? Sure, at the beginning he was dubious of how tight the tent was, but now he wouldn’t even think twice about it. If they woke up and Killua found himself up against Gon—some might use the phrase ‘snuggled up’—well, they just got up and started the day without mentioning it.

**takoyaki** : well?

**SK8ORDIE69** : it wasn’t like  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : THAT

**takoyaki** : but?  
 **takoyaki** : I sense a but coming

**SK8ORDIE69** : just my foot up yours!!!!!  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : look  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : theres no relationship to speak of. we arent even friends. i fucked up AGAIN

**takoyaki** : bro. nah. what do u mean???

**SK8ORDIE69** : i am just not made for it

**takoyaki** : for what

**SK8ORDIE69** : friends

**takoyaki** : dude haha what r u sayin I’m right here :)

**SK8ORDIE69** : no offense but  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : whatever!! this just isnt about that  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i never told you this but  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : when i was younger i had someone who was really………. close to me. like the most important person….. my best friend

**takoyaki** : And what happened? To your friend

**SK8ORDIE69** : i dont even know but i havent spoken to him in years ever since my father found out  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : he was the only friend i ever had  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : my parents made it clear what would happen if i was that close to a boy again  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i had to cut off all communication with the outside world….. so i wouldnt be ‘ tempted ‘  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : it gave my family bad press for a while. thats all they cared about  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : they ruined the life of anyone i tried to talk to after that. thats why i post online anonymously  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i wish i knew what happened to him. i have no idea what my family did to him  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : only bad things happen when i get close to someone  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : r u still there? im sorry for being so heavy  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i get it if u dont want to talk to me either

**takoyaki** : Killua, no. Don’t say these things.

**SK8ORDIE69** : why not.

**takoyaki** : You deserve friendship more than anyone else. I know you like to keep up appearances and seem unbothered by everything, but you actually have the biggest heart of anyone I know.

**SK8ORDIE69** : what do u know about that??

**takoyaki** : dude I got xray vision!!!!

**SK8ORDIE69** : shut up

Killua stared at the ‘is typing’ message. They were typing a lot today. He blinked, and realized he was tearing up. Just a little.

**takoyaki** : Don’t blame yourself for the cruelty of your family. Especially when you were so young back then. There’s nothing you could have done differently. Besides not getting caught…

Killua let his mind wander back to his usually closely-guarded memories of when he was just barely a teenager. He was young and naïve, and he felt like he could do anything if his hand was in the hand of his best friend. No matter how tired he was at the end of the day, seeing his smile would rejuvenate him. They both had endless energy.

Sometime upon reaching the age of adolescence, the powerful feelings he had toward his best friend, his closest confidant, his greatest gift, turned into something else. And as luck, or some sort of twisted karma, would have it, his feelings were returned just as strong.

They had shared an embrace in town just long enough for someone with a camera to capture their personal moment. One single, childish kiss. That kiss sealed both of their fates.

**takoyaki** : I don’t know Gon. But I do trust your judgement of other people. You say you aren’t even friends, but I can tell you two are already close. You deserve to be close with others. Don’t let yourself push people away because you think it’ll be easier, Killua.

Killua was fully crying again. “ _Dammit_ ,” he cursed under his breath.

**SK8ORDIE69** : lol good thing u cant see me. u got me crying like a baby dude

**takoyaki** : thats right ur just a big hearted baby!!!

In the middle of his blubbering, he burst out laughing. If Palm heard him, she’d think he’d lost it.

**takoyaki** : but don’t cry anymore  
 **takoyaki** : please

**SK8ORDIE69** : i normally dont talk about this… i normally dont even think about it or i would probs be crying all the time  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : the truth is, it really hurt to suddenly not be able to talk to my best friend. i was so alone  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : i dont want to get close to someone… and lose them forever again…

**takoyaki** : you won’t.

**SK8ORDIE69** : how can u say that

**takoyaki** : 3 things:  
 **takoyaki** : first of all, you finally managed to separate from your family…. so they can’t interfere anymore. they might try, but as long as you stay independent and stand up for yourself, they can’t hurt you or your friends.  
 **takoyaki** : second, dude, don’t let fear run your life! you shouldn’t decide to never try to make friends out of the fear of losing them. sometimes… you just have to try, even if you might fall on your face. even if you know you’ll fall on your face!!!! sometimes, you think you’ll fail, and you still succeed.  
 **takoyaki** : and third… killua.

Killua frowned at the screen. They were typing for a really long time again—a long enough time that he stopped and wondered when **takoyaki** started calling him by his real name. HIM was completely secure, and he had never even registered his name to the account.

**SK8ORDIE69** : when did i tell u my name????????

Killua sunk further into the puffy chair as he stared, dumbfounded, as they stopped typing.

**takoyaki** : oh, u noticed?

**SK8ORDIE69** : ???????????????????????????

**takoyaki** : you told me a long time ago, killua.

**SK8ORDIE69** : when

**takoyaki** : was it spring? I think it was kinda sunny. I was minding my business walking to the park, and you mowed me down on your skateboard. I just kept laying there, face to the pavement, wondering where I went wrong in life, when you pulled a U-ie and helped me up. but you never apologized for knocking me over… something about not needing to say certain things?

**SK8ORDIE69** : what the fuck

Killua ungracefully rolled off the bean bag chair. He stood up and kicked at it. His foot left an indent, but the beans quickly refilled the space he had made. He tried to inhale slowly to calm himself, but he could only gasp for breath. His pulse was skyrocketing. His mind was completely short-circuiting. He paced around the room once, twice. The computer was dinging with incoming messages. He forced himself to look at the glowing white screen.

**takoyaki** : hey  
 **takoyaki** : killua  
 **takoyaki** : dont ignore me!!!!!!  
 **takoyaki** : I am being very courageous here do not leave me hanging

**SK8ORDIE69** : courageous

**takoyaki** : yea I wasn’t planning on telling you!!!!!  
 **takoyaki** : my third point, killua, is that you never lost me.  
 **takoyaki** : I know I have some explaining to do….

**SK8ORDIE69** : no shit!!!!!

**takoyaki** : but you didnt lose me bro and you never will. and unless Gon is like record-breaking levels of stupid, he won’t want to lose you either.

**SK8ORDIE69** : ikalgo.

**takoyaki** : yes?

**SK8ORDIE69** : fuck

**takoyaki** : did you really think I could be someone else???

**SK8ORDIE69** : ……………no  
 **SK8ORDIE69** : this is just batshit insane dude

Killua spent the next few hours playing catch up with his long-time chatting buddy and his even longer-time friend.

Killua and Ikalgo grew up together, in every sense that meant anything. They lived in different neighborhoods, but they met up in town whenever they could, ever since Killua ran into him on his skateboard.

But before Killua was even legal to drive, they stopped being able to meet up, at all, and Ikalgo’s family was effectively ran out of town. This much Killua knew.

What he hadn’t known was that after he had begun anonymously posting his art online, the other anonymous face he started corresponding with was none other than his missing friend. They really hadn’t stopped talking for more than a few months.

Ikalgo had seen the art style, the subject matter, and the overly modest commentary and knew right away that it was him. He only meant to leave a few comments, to continue supporting his best friend in the only way he could, but he couldn’t stop himself. He would check the forum every day to see if Killua posted an update, to try to gleam any information about him off of it.

One thing led to another, and they began messaging offsite. Ikalgo didn’t want to give himself away, knowing that if Killua’s family ever found out, both of them would be severely punished. He was also a little afraid of Killua's reaction. Would he find it creepy?

Killua found it hilarious.

**SK8ORDIE69** : bruh….. the dramatic irony…

**takoyaki** : lol  
 **takoyaki** : come on dude did you really think anyone but me could’ve been this funny all these years? or this cool?

**SK8ORDIE69** : uh…

~~~

Killua made his way back into the kitchen, bringing his now empty mug to the sink. He ran the hot water and swished it around, trying to get the chocolatey crud off the bottom. He stared at the muddy water, but he wasn’t really consciously cleaning it. A smile adorned his lips.

His thoughts were elsewhere: he was thinking about Tako, or, rather, Ikalgo. He should’ve known it was him! Killua chuckled to himself. He hadn’t ever considered such an absurdity. He had long ago forced himself to accept that he’d never hear from Ikalgo again, and that that was his burden to bear, the proof he couldn’t keep a relationship beyond something strictly-business. The knowledge that he ruined his friend’s life, his friend’s family’s lives, was always on the back of his mind. But now he knew it wasn’t even true; it was just another lie he had been fed. Maybe his legs were regaining circulation from having sat in a strange position for too long, but he felt as if he were floating; Ikalgo had lifted, with his own two hands, a weight from his shoulders that he hadn’t realized was there.

“Some of us have to pay the water bill. I think that mug’s clean,” someone suddenly uttered. Killua jumped and spun around, hastily shutting off the faucet.

Palm was lounging on the couch. She sat with a book, open, but facedown in her lap. She had been watching Killua wash his mug and mumble to himself for the past five minutes. His face reddened at the realization.

He tried to play it off. “I wasn’t raised like an animal. It’s common courtesy to wash the dishes you use when you’re in someone else’s house.”

Palm stood up, setting the opened book down on the couch where she had just been. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, come back up here with me,” she said before ascending the stairs without pausing, assuming he would be right behind her.

Killua followed her up to her studio, which had been rearranged while he was talking with Ikalgo. The paintings had been shuffled around to make room for a large board leaned against the left wall. The floor space in front of it was clear, a stark contrast from the rest of the upstairs floor. Killua watched as she leaned over a large bucket sitting by the blank board, and pulled out an armful of small, white balloons. She tacked them onto the board in a cluster.

Satisfied with the arrangement, she stepped back several feet, at the edge of the cleared area, and waved Killua over to stand beside her.

“How are you with darts, kid?”

Killua smirked like the brat he was. “Let me at ‘em,”

And so they took turns at the makeshift carnival game Palm had assembled in her attic.  
Despite the big talk, Killua missed marvelously on his first throw. He tried to apologize for putting a fresh hole in Palm’s wall, but she only laughed. “Don’t apologize for each miss, or we’ll be here all night!” She punctuated her jab with a throw of a dart. The balloon she hit popped open, revealing bright red paint. It splattered the board, the other balloons, and the two artists’ faces.

They turned to each other, and laughed in unison. Killua’s next dart hit its target, painting the room with flecks of blue. Neither of them showed the balloons any mercy.

“Now, look what you can make when you don’t think about it so much!” Palm said amidst the pops and splashes.

Killua stopped mid-throw and considered the no-longer blank canvas. It was now covered in a myriad of colors mixing together, running down the board, and pooling chaotically on the floor. (Why hadn’t Palm laid down a tarp?) There were only a few balloons left to be decimated.

“This is art?” slipped out of his mouth without thinking.

“Sure,” she said a little too casually for his liking.

“What makes this art, but something else, not?”

“I’m not the decider of that!” she guffawed. In a more serious tone, she replied simply, “It’s up to the artist whether or not what they make is art. And I say, fuck yeah, this is art! What do you say, as the co-collaborator of the piece?”

Killua took aim again, squinting one eye shut to line up his throw. As the canvas flooded with yellow, he decided, “Yeah, it’s art.”

“Good, because otherwise we’d have spent the last hour making a big fucking mess for no reason!” Palm laughed.

Once all the balloons were reduced to rubbery shreds, the two artists stood back to admire their mess. It was unlike anything Killua had ever produced before. It wasn’t a still-life, plein air, study, or anything that resembled anything at all. It might’ve been the first time he had created without thinking since he splashed finger-paints around as a toddler.

While it didn’t resemble anything real or alive, the colors held their own form of life. The result was inseparable from the process, which gave meaning to an otherwise shapeless image. Or so Palm claimed, anyways.

~~~

Killua arranged a makeshift bed on Palm’s couch with the various blankets he had been given. One of them was clearly handmade. He had agreed to at least stay for the night. He had also promised to run his plans by her in the morning before ‘trying to sneak away’.

He still hadn’t explained himself: why he had been walking alongside the road in the rain, why he had been crying, or why he wasn’t still in the woods working with Gon. But, somehow, Palm seemed to understand everything. And, by some miracle, Killua didn’t feel the gut-wrenching need to cry anymore.

He wondered where Gon was, right now. Was he out on another dumbass moonlit mission to find some stupid mushroom? Or was he in their tent, lying there alone, wondering where Killua was?

For the past week, if not longer, Killua wasn’t getting enough sleep. When the researching duo would finally retire for the night (or day, depending on the current mushroom-searching schedule), he’d bundle up in his sleeping bag, fully relax his body, and then just lay like that waiting for sleep to happen, fully awake. The sound of Gon’s snoozed breathing, a sound that used to lull him to sleep, now marked how many seconds and minutes had passed, like the ticking of a clock.

One of the subjects haunting him was his career, his life goals, his “what do you see yourself doing in 5 years”. After getting over the rush of pure freedom and fully celebrating his successful escape, he was at a loss. He couldn’t just keep following in Gon’s footsteps for the rest of his life… not even if he had sometimes daydreamed of it.

He wanted to pursue something with the same amount of passion that Gon had for ecology. He wanted to be able to whisk Gon away and show him his world for a few weeks. But to do that, he first had to find his own world. These nights, he’d slowly slip into a dreamless unconsciousness, and he’d wake up still feeling the aftereffects of stress.

The worst nights were the nights he imagined Gon. He’d replay, in his mind, the previous day’s events. All the sketchy things he had done, both the ones Killua had convinced him not to do and the ones he did anyways. Not quite putting actual numbers to it, Killua calculated the probabilities of these reckless actions ending in failure. He’d ponder over his updated list of Most Dumb Things Gon has done, ranked by order of stupidity. As his thoughts slipped into dreams, the eventualities came to form:

Sometimes his foot slipped, when they were at the edge of a really tall cliff. In slow motion, bits of rock would tumble down, down into the darkness. He would follow their slow descent with his eyes, but as he looked back up, Gon was tumbling down too. His arm would unfold, reaching towards him, but it stretched out as if he were swimming in honey, and by the time his fingers opened up, Gon’s hand was way beyond his reach.

Sometimes they encountered a creature in the shadowy parts of the woods that just happened to be in a bad mood, and Gon would hold it back with nothing but his bare hands and his willpower, shouting “RUN!” and Killua’s legs betrayed him. Heeding the order against his will, Gon’s figure would get smaller and further away, but not far enough that he doesn’t hear his yell when the creature finally wins.

Sometimes they braved a windstorm with a vengeance, the kind that could whisk you away if you held an open umbrella. And the sound of time and space splitting apart is the only warning before an old hardwood tree finally finds its resting place. Killua looks behind him, to where Gon is no longer standing, but flat on the ground, his limbs sprawled out like some puny bug a giant boot had stepped on.

Sometimes, Killua awoke with a jolt, the kind that comes with that free-falling sensation, and he’d only resume breathing after confirming that, yes, Gon was still beside him and, yes, he was happily asleep, without a scratch.

Even without calculating the exact figures, it was obvious that if Gon kept at it, it was a matter of when, not if, he would get into serious trouble. And Killua didn’t want to have to explain the body at the bottom of the creek bed to the police.

Plus, they hadn’t known each other for long, but Killua would miss him if he wasn’t around anymore. It was almost like he…

Away from it all, for the first night all week, Killua got some actual sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew that was a long one!! Thanks for bearing with me through the texting this is the bulk of it for the story.
> 
> I hope you liked it! The next chapter.... is also long.


	9. Jack-o'-Lantern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Killua can't keep avoiding things.

Despite spending the night on a couch, Killua slept soundly. Until Palm grabbed his shoulder and violently shook him awake.

“Killua! Killua! KILLUA GET YOUR ASS UP!” she shouted directly into his ear.

Killua shot up like someone had yelled ‘fire’. Before he could orient himself, Palm dragged him by his shirt into the computer room.

“Can you please answer these messages? I’m about ready to lose my mind!” she tried to say calmly, pointing at the computer screen.

The _HIM_ messenger application was open. Killua’s buddy list was displayed; he had neglected to sign himself out yesterday. His status was still displayed as online. One of his conversations was in the foreground, shaking and making irritating alert sounds.

“I didn’t open your unread messages, but it seems someone _really_ wants you to. I just wanted to check my email, but they keep nudging you, so I can’t get anything done,” she explained. “Sort it out.”

Killua sighed, flopping onto the bean bag chair. There were missed messages from two different users. Seeing one of them was from Alluka, he clicked on hers first.

**nanika** : bro!!! :-) I am so very proud of you for finding it in you to move on. I know it must’ve been difficult. It’s not easy moving out for the first time!! lol. but I hope you’re safe now.

**nanika** : I hope you have allowed yourself to open up to this mystery man. It comes with challenges, and with your baggage……… but I know you can get there. (＾_＾）

**nanika** : you better tell me alllllll about him and the adventures it sounds like you’re going on some day!!! (｀・ω・´)

**nanika** : I understand if you can’t right now… due to the fam… but maybe you could come visit me? sometime? I miss you bro :’-(

**nanika** : will it sweeten the deal if I say you can visit your oreo friend too? heheeheh

**nanika** : this is all I will say, killua… I opened my big mouth as soon as he saw one of your drawings hung on my wall! I was too proud of you to hold back! so don’t blame him!

**nanika** : and you better message him back ok! I told him you probably just hadn’t logged in long enough to check your whole inbox (as if you know that many people! ha!)…. based on the messy ramblings you sent me it’s probs true :-P

**nanika** : now don’t make me tell you off again!!!!!! it should be the other way around.

**nanika** : and, yes I am doing my school work! the project went really well. (*´∇｀*) my professor loved my essay about the worth of a life and he wants me to revise it and go further.

**nanika** : I love you!!!!! <3 write me soon

Killua grinned. He always loved hearing about her much-deserved academic recognition. But jeez, was his sister was as nosy as ever. And… what was this about his oreo friend? Was she talking about **D0UBLEstuff**?

He glanced over at the other conversation, the one that kept buzzing. Lo and behold, that was **D0UBLEstuff** ’s doing. Admittedly, he had been ignoring his messages for weeks now. He bit the bullet and clicked on their chat. There were groups of wordy messages from different days, spanning to back before he first visited the library, up to today. He was currently online, and currently nudging.

**D0UBLEstuff** : Hi.  
**D0UBLEstuff** : Ok, it seems you really aren’t online. Not even invisible?  
**D0UBLEstuff** : I suppose you’ll see this eventually then.  
**D0UBLEstuff** : As you know, I work as an RA in a residence hall to help make ends meet. It turns out that one of the students under my care is your younger sister. You know I respect your privacy, and I never wanted to pry from you your identity. I learned this purely by chance, I swear! I already know what you’re worried about; I do not intend to publicize the personal details you have shared with me to the media rats or gossip blogger bastards. I assure you, man.  
**D0UBLEstuff** : I had to come clean and tell you! I’m not sure if your sister knows exactly who I am, but I don’t want to be dishonest. I sincerely hope we can still be friends. Despite now knowing your name, I already knew your nature. This criteria is what I use as basis of judgement. I do not judge you for your circumstances (which you can’t control!) I hope that you will continue to judge me the same.

**D0UBLEstuff** : Hi.  
**D0UBLEstuff** : I saw you still haven’t replied. I hope it’s not because you’re upset with me. I heard from Alluka what your situation is like right now… I just want you to know that if you get sick of sleeping on the ground, probably covered in bugs and grime, you can stay with me.

**D0UBLEstuff** : Hi.  
**D0UBLEstuff** : I hope you weren’t put off by my last message, I swear I’m not a creepy old man! Alluka will vouch for me. Uh. Anyways, you don’t have to come see me or whatever, just tell me you aren’t mad! Please.

**D0UBLEstuff** : I can SEE that you’re online! Respond you little shit! NOW!!!!!!!

**D0UBLEstuff has sent you a nudge!**  
**D0UBLEstuff has sent you a nudge!**  
**D0UBLEstuff has sent you a nudge!**  
**D0UBLEstuff has sent you a nudge!**  
**D0UBLEstuff has sent you a nudge!**

Only the latest, and most obnoxious, message was from today, as well as the flurry of nudge notifications that Palm was hit with. An unfortunate bystander casualty. Killua would apologize properly later. Before that, Killua replied:

**SK8ORDIE69** : ha! only a creepy old man would say they arent a creepy old man!  
**SK8ORDIE69** : im not mad at you, dummy. i just thought u wanted to play runescape or something  
**SK8ORDIE69** : and i was busy  
**SK8ORDIE69** : so when can i come over oreo

**D0UBLEstuff** : It’s Leorio.

**SK8ORDIE69** : SO when can i come over le oreo

~~~

After the shock of learning that **takoyaki** was his old best friend (and briefly… more than that), this wasn’t much of a surprise. It seemed the universe was just toying with Killua at this point. Of course it would turn out that his two closest online friends were also close in his offline life.

He would’ve trusted Leorio not to share his personal information, regardless, but with a voucher from his sister, how could he possibly not believe him?

Killua did intend to take him up on his offer; he had wanted to visit Alluka eventually, anyways. But, now wasn’t the time to make elaborate couch-surfing plans. He assured Leorio he would stay in touch, for real this time, but he still had some business to settle here.

He logged out of his account this time. He did not notice that he had one new user on his buddy list: **spookybogwitch666**.

~~~

Over breakfast, Killua finally confided in Palm, about how things slowly started to get worse, about how Gon got more and more reckless, about how both of them started sleeping less and less (for different reasons), and about how Killua finally put his foot down.

Palm took it all in quietly, reserving her comments until he was done. She sighed to herself.

After a long pause, she finally said. “I really worry about that boy…”

Killua searched her eyes for an explanation over his raised mug.

She shook her head, as there wasn’t a simple answer. “He makes careless mistakes, sometimes, like all of us. But when he’s on a deadline like this, they start to add up.”

“Deadline?”

“If he doesn’t turn in something impressive at the end of this week, the lab may never give him this much responsibility again. He had to beg and plead for them to give him this second chance… but if he can’t do it properly, and _safely_ , maybe he just isn’t ready yet.”

“Oh…” Killua mumbled. He wanted to argue that, no, of course Gon is ready, but he couldn’t say much about him doing things the safe way.

“That being said, I don’t know how far down his list he is. I also wonder if he has realized there are other ways…” she trailed off, lost in thought.

“Other ways? Like, to work in safer ways?”

“Well, sure, but I meant there are other ways he could make his report stand out. Ideally, he would find all the species the lab is studying. But, he could still craft a really solid thesis about what he did find, or provide descriptions in excruciating detail, for example. Basically, if he does good enough of a job that his superiors can’t deny his efforts, they can’t complain.”

Killua nodded very seriously. Maybe if he relayed this to Gon later, he would relax a bit and they could work out a solution together.

“Although…” Palm floated.

“Although?” he gulped.

“You still haven’t explained everything,” she finished. “I get that Gon is a… bit _much_ sometimes, but why did you get so pissed off about this that you ditched him like this?”

Killua flinched away from her intense gaze. He fiddled with his spoon, pushing his soggy cereal around. “I wasn’t really… pissed off.”

“Did you not want to get dragged into those dangerous situations anymore?”

The truth is, Gon had been doing stupid reckless things since they met. Hell, it was stupid of him to invite a complete stranger on a (clearly important) multi-week project (not that Killua was complaining).

But why did he suddenly feel the need to stand in Gon’s way about his methods? Killua didn’t do it out of concern for himself; he had offered his own share of dangerous (but fun) suggestions over the past few weeks. From running down a mountain, to betting Gon he wouldn’t lick a toad, to initiating a flaming-marshmallow battle, Killua was not above doing dumb things, especially if he got a good laugh out of it.

“Well, not really… but I didn’t really mind it,”

“Then why were you upset?”

“I… I’m not sure,”

Palm gave Killua a searching side eyed look.

“I see. Well, will you promise me to not ditch him again? He might not look it, but he’s kinda fragile. He might think you don’t want to be friends anymore…”

“What? How could he think that? …I was afraid he wouldn’t want to be friends with me!”

Palm smacked him on the back. “Ha! You two will be just fine.”

~~~

Before heading to the diner for her shift, Palm took a quick detour to drop Killua off at the parking lot he had become so familiar with. This time, he was able to sit in the front passenger seat.

“So…” Killua started, unsure of what to say. “…thanks,” he finally mumbled.

She waved him off. “Don’t sweat it kid. You livened up my weekend. But you owe me!”

Killua gave her a dubious look.

“Your paintbrush will still be there waiting for you when you come back,” she explained. “You know, I considered giving it to you again today, as a symbolic memento of our time together, but I figured you didn’t bring any paint with you into the woods!” she laughed maniacally.

Waiting for her to stop laughing at her own joke, Killua considered what she had said… Not ‘if you come back’, but ‘when you come back’. He was surprised to find he was looking forward to visiting her again. She was a lot cooler than he had initially thought. And… he wouldn’t say it out loud, but he sort of looked up to her, maybe, in a professional sense.

Not having anything else to say, he tore out a page from his sketchbook and set it on the center console between them. He hopped out of the seat and slammed the door before she could even react.

As his stomach tightened up, feeling tense again in anticipation of what was coming, he hustled around the truck towards the trailhead. Before hitting the trail, he turned back one last time to wave, catching a glimpse of Palm through the window, giving him the widest smile he had seen from her yet. He smiled back. It seemed she liked his drawing.

~~~

In the truck, Palm watched Killua fade into the trees. She couldn’t stop grinning. She knew he had been being modest about his skills, but this was beyond her expectations. The drawing was a portrait of her. She was poised to strike, dart in hand. There were blatant gobs of paint in her hair, across her face, and on her favorite t-shirt. Despite the messy state, she had an intensely serious expression on her face, as if she was extremely focused. Overall, it was rendered with great skill. But the juxtaposition of the goofy attire and her serious gaze gave it a comical twist. She was being made into a punchline! She couldn’t stop grinning, not even if she had wanted to. She was looking forward to seeing more of Killua’s work.

She carefully put the new addition to her collection onto the passenger seat. After finding something good on the radio, she sped off to the diner.

~~~

Killua had been able to decompress at Palm’s. But now, with each step closer to the campsite, he was filled with more and more dread. The cogs in his head were spinning wildly. Would Gon be upset at him for disappearing? Did he make him mad? What if he had packed up and moved the campsite, so that Killua couldn’t find him again?

As Killua entered the clearing they had camped at most recently, and he saw the tent, the hammock, and the charred fire circle, he was relieved. At least it was all still here.

Now onto his next worry: was Gon mad? He reluctantly approached the tent, and rapped his fist against it. He would never have knocked before entering before, but the mood felt different now. He wasn’t sure he had a right to go in there anymore (even though his belongings were still lying within.)

No response.

“…Gon? You there?” he tried.

Nothing.

He unzipped the door on his side of the tent and crawled in. It didn’t look any different from before he left. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to have been different.

If Gon wasn’t here, he might be out researching. It had rained yesterday, after all. Or, maybe he was up all night working again, and he would be returning soon. Even if he was out all day, he’d probably come back for lunch or at least dinner. If he intended to just eat out of a can of beans on-the-go for his meals—Killua shuddered—he would still be back eventually to sleep, or at least take a damn nap.

So Killua waited.

~~~

He pulled out his trusty notebook and tried to draw mindlessly, channelling the freeform exercise Palm had introduced to him last night. But, even if he started out with abstract shapes, it didn’t take long before each mark took form and turned into something recognizable, or, rather, someone recognizable.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about Gon.

Palm had asked him why they started fighting, as if it wasn’t obvious Gon had stooped to real low levels of dumbassery… even for him. Wouldn’t anyone of sane mind tell him off? And yet, when he was asked this simple question with an obvious answer, he didn’t have any explanation to give.

When he thought about what Gon had last said to him, a mixture of emotions filled him up inside. There wasn’t just one he could pick out, point to, and say “that’s the one, that’s the one that made me do it”. He had denied being pissed off, but only because it was just one piece of the puzzle.

He _was_ pissed off.

He was pissed off that Gon didn’t listen to him at all, and took off on his own.

But, he was also pissed off at himself. He should have jumped to his feet and followed Gon, not let the conversation end on that bitter note.

He didn’t follow him, or even move at all, because he had fully shut down as soon as he realized Gon didn’t need him. Killua was hesitant to get close with anyone. He had always associated friendship with mutual political ruin, and he was used to being the first to step back whenever something went afoul.

He hadn’t been consciously aware of this habit until Ikalgo talked some sense into him yesterday. Alluka, and Leorio too, had given him the encouragement he didn’t know he needed. It wasn’t going to be easier, but he at least knew he had support.

His anger isn’t why he originally confronted Gon, though.

That night, he had reached his breaking point. When he gasped awake from his latest nightmare, he had immediately shaken Gon awake and started deliriously telling him off. He honestly doesn’t remember the exact words he used, but Gon didn’t take them too kindly. By the time they were fully awake they were both too aggravated to speak rationally. It wasn’t long before Gon started shouting and took his dramatic exit.

Killua had no memory of what he woke Gon up to tell him, but he remembered why he woke him up:

He was scared.

The nights he’d witness Gon nosedive into the dark, get mangled by a mysterious creature, or get flattened like an insect had been working their way into his waking conscious. He felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for it to become reality.

He was terrified that his dreams would come true and Gon would meet a gruesome end in the woods as he watches. It twisted his guts through and through if he let himself think about it.

The thought of losing Gon like that… it was unbearable.

He had come to genuinely care for the idiot, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to him now.

He penciled in a dreamy expression, complete with bemused eyebrows and a hesitant smile.

On the paper, sat Gon, with his legs carefully folded under him. He was about to squint and ask what was “so funny”. But he never would; he was frozen in the exact moment before he noticed the way Killua had been smirking at him.

Smirking at the picture, Killua added the long stalk of the umbrella-like mushroom Gon posed under in two flourishes. The graphite grated against the paper as he shaded in the underside of its cap.

He stared at the finished sketch for a long time. He still thought Gon looked like he was at a posh café. Maybe when they weren’t fighting, they could goto one. On the blank page across the fold from his current one, he outlined a similar Gon, but at a proper table, under a real parasol.

He just wanted to finish up the project here, and move on, so that they could do simple things again, like goto a cute café or sit together on a bus going wherever.

He poked his head out the tent, gauging what time it was. Gon still hadn’t returned and the sun was sinking low in the sky.

Abandoning the sketchbook, trying not to worry, he rustled through Gon’s side of the tent, searching for a light. He uncovered the headlamp he had worn in the cave. Right next to it, he found the backup light. If both of them were still at camp…

Kicked into gear with sudden purpose, Killua changed and prepped his bag swiftly (he had a lot of practice by now). Maybe it was just a wild goose chase to look for one person in the entire wilderness refuge, but he was done sitting and twiddling his thumbs. Despite his misgivings, he knew Gon was a top-notch survivalist, but if he hadn’t even brought a source of light with him… he clearly didn’t plan to be out this long.

~~~

He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t have the time to sit down and map out strategies! He just had to find Gon.

He was no mycologist, but he knew the general conditions most mushrooms thrived in. Thinking back on everything he had learned about damn fungus, he was just going to check any area that might have something that enticed Gon.

As the sun threatened to fall, he picked up his pace, until he was running through the trees. He zig-zagged from dewy valleys to musty dried out creeks to shadowy groves.

~~~

As he ran through the woods, his mind also raced. If Gon had gotten himself into trouble, it would definitely be his fault. He shouldn’t have left the tent and gone back to town.

Although, he was pretty sure he would have gone insane by now if he had been sitting at camp all this time, trapped in his thoughts. If he hadn’t talked with Ikalgo, he probably would have given up on Gon entirely by now, maybe he would have gotten on another bus already, trying to save face.

As soon as he had escaped from his dreary funk, he immediately knew he needed to talk it over with Ikalgo, or, rather, his Internet alias, **takoyaki**. He was overjoyed to reconnect with him (even if they had never really disconnected).

Sure, some of Killua’s old guilt was wiped clean when he learned that Ikalgo’s family did well in the town they relocated to, but mostly he was simply happy that Ikalgo continued to live his life. Ikalgo was the first person he cared for, and cared about, if perhaps too much. His parents had spent the last four years trying to reverse it. The only positive relationship he made in his developmental years was with Ikalgo.

He had been his first, and most important, friend. When he imagined thirteen year-old Ikalgo and him messing around in the park or downtown or the middle of the street, he could feel his chest expanding with… something. It was a huge contrast from the tight, withering feeling in his gut he had been experiencing lately.

It was the feeling of opening the oven door, being overwhelmed by the warmth escaping as some freshly baked bread is taken out. It was the feeling of finding a particularly smooth rock at the ocean’s edge as the waves coax you in. It was the feeling of having a hand-drawn piece of art not only accepted by another, but framed and put prominently on display.

It was also the feeling of meeting eyes with someone grass-stained head-to-toe from rolling down a hill, before colliding into them at the bottom.  
It was also the feeling of waking with a start to the sensation of gentle fingers sweeping his bedhead-bangs off his forehead, but pretending to still be asleep, to preserve the moment.  
It was also the feeling of seeing a smile on their face and knowing that it’s just for you.

Who was he thinking about, again?

Before he could reevaluate his jumbled feelings, he jumped at the sound of a crack reverberating through the air. The leaves rustled restlessly and a group of birds took to the air in a disorganized flight pattern.

“A gun?” he murmured to himself, skidding to a stop. Was it hunting season? …no, even if it was, all of the land here was under regulation. It was federally preserved.

His mind blank, he took off again, running even faster, in the direction of the shot.

~~~

Approaching the source of the sound, Killua immediately recognized his surroundings: this was the location of the valley of rare mosses he had seen his very first day in these woods. This time, he nonchalantly brushed through the tall grasses, not batting an eye as they towered over and enclosed him. He hastily tiptoed among the mosses, as Gon had elegantly done that day, skirting around the clearing. He remembered the way Gon had gently caressed the moss here, and how his eyes had lingered before returning focus to the looking glass. He paused. If he focused, he could hear something nearby: the sound of a person speaking.

He gulped as he realized the sound was below him. Whoever it was, they were at the bottom of the ravine he had refused to scale down when he last saw it.

Toeing the edge, Killua peered down and saw two figures. He wasn’t sure who the one on the right was, but there was no mistaking that the leftmost was Gon. His eyes widened in recognition at the same instant his heart jumped up and out his throat. The unknown person was talking animatedly, waving around what Killua recognized to be a shotgun. Was Gon being threatened?

“No way…,” he whispered to himself. He didn’t want to believe this was happening. Despite not having any prior mountaineering experience, he immediately kneeled at the edge and started scrambling down the cliff. Luckily it was more of an extremely steep hill than a flat cliff-face, but it certainly was a feat he wouldn’t have ever considered a month ago. His nerves were so frazzled and fried that he had a weirdly placid state of mind. He maneuvered down the rocks, holding onto outstretched and gnarled roots whenever possible.

He was able to duck behind the bushes and trees near the bottom of the climb, and seamlessly hid himself when he reached flat ground again. Just a slight distance away, the other two were so engaged in their conversation that they hadn’t noticed him.

The mysterious man in khaki’s and a t-shirt still held a gun at his side, but he had stopped waving it around. Gon was covered in dirt, which wasn’t necessarily unusual for him, but he looked absolutely disgraced. His brow furrowed, he stared at the ground in-between them.

Killua didn’t like seeing that expression on him. He picked up a baseball-sized stone and juggled it between his hands for a few minutes as he continued observing. He waited until the threatening man started to raise the hand holding the gun again, then he flung the stone.

Startled, Gon and the man looked in the direction of the thrown stone, both visibly alarmed. Before they turned back around, Killua sprinted out of his hiding spot and ambushed the man. He grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm until his hand released, dropping the gun into Killua’s waiting hand. Good thing he had payed attention in the self-defense class his mother signed him up for (she didn’t want to risk someone trying to kidnap the family star).

The disarmed man looked perplexed. Killua stared him down as he backed away, putting himself in between the suspicious man and Gon, who was silent. Not wanting to lower his guard, Killua spared just half a glance back, only to see Gon’s jaw on the floor.

“Gon… are you okay?” Killua asked at the same moment Gon said, “Killua! Why are you here?”

Killua backed up, so that he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Gon, still clasping the retrieved shotgun. Keeping the gunman in view, he turned to face Gon head-on, so he could receive the full force of his unimpressed glare, as he said, “Why wouldn’t I be here, dummy?”

Rather than answer the second question, Gon answered the first, “Yeah, I’m okay. I got this.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. You just disarmed a park ranger, by the way.” Gon had looked so serious before, but he couldn’t hold back a shit-eating grin now. “Very impressive.”

Killua glanced back at the apparent ranger. He didn’t look impressed. Killua felt himself getting warm. He had misjudged. It had taken him a record-breakingly short amount of time to mess this up.

The ranger adjusted the brim of his hat, revealing his cold eyes as he sized Killua up. “Well. You did good disarming me, boy. You really caught me off guard,” he held out his hand, waiting for his firearm to be returned, “Just don’t do it again.”

Killua sheepishly handed it over.

~~~

After being convinced by Gon that there wasn’t an issue and that the park ranger, Kite, was worthy of his trust, Killua’s fight-or-flight mode was deactivated. He had all but deflated. He was exhausted. Gon and Kite privately concluded their conversation before Kite took off. By now, the sun had completely set. He vanished into the dark. Killua reached into his pack to pull out the lights. He placed the headlamp on Gon like he was crowning a prince. He adjusted it to his head as Gon looked down at the toe of his boot. He must’ve realized that Killua knew he had been bumbling around in the dark without a light, and was rightfully ashamed. Good.

Killua had finally realized what he had been feeling for the past day, week, month even. He knew why he had gotten upset with Gon.

“You are so, so dumb and I hate you,”

“Ha! Don’t lie to me, Killua,”

“No, you really _are_ dumb,”

Before he could retort again, Killua grabbed him with his arms and squeezed him with all his might in a crushing hug. Gon wheezed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending the chapter after Killua heard gunshots definitely crossed my mind, but I decided to not be overly melodramatic. Gon is fine!
> 
> This is the last of the textspeak I promise
> 
> There's only like two chapters left of this, and then there will be an epilogue... thanks for sticking it out! I'm glad someone else got something out of this other than just me.


	10. Parasol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gon is in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some mentions of suicidal ideation/general depression in this chapter.

Leaving seemed very cool and dramatic at the time, but as soon as Gon had scrambled out of the tent and rezipped the fly, he didn’t know what to do. Eyebrow twitching, he glared down at the tent for a beat, before mechanically turning around and stomping off… somewhere.

He was _pissed_.

He ended up just doing what he would normally do: go for a walk. He tried to focus on how the leaves were all upturning their hands in anticipation of rain, and how the wildflowers were bundling up for the day. Being surrounded by nature always calmed him down.

~~~

First thing in the morning, his stupid tent mate had grabbed his sleeping bag and shook him like a can of spray paint. If that wasn’t enough to sour his mood, he then got an earful about how he “doesn’t know what he’s doing”. If anyone didn’t know what they were doing, it was Killua, his naïve research partner who couldn’t possibly be greener. He had just started (assisting) his ecology project barely a few weeks ago!

Gon had enough people doubting his skills at the lab. He didn’t need to get the same treatment from Killua. He knew that Killua probably didn’t really mean it, but he also probably didn’t realize what a sore subject it was.

On his last real assignment, a few years ago, he had messed up. It had been an important project, he was finally working with his old mentor, Dr. Wing, on equal terms. Gon had reached out to the renowned field expert and convinced him to take him on as an apprentice, and he taught him everything he knew. The team decided Gon was ready for more responsibility. But, he had failed to stick to his mentor’s rigid methodologies, he had lost all the data he had been collecting, and he had gotten into a fistfight with a member of the public (they deserved it). Their supervisor suspended him. He had to beg her to give him another chance, but she didn’t budge for months and months, telling him to ‘just take a break’ and ‘find something else to do’.

Gon didn’t have anything else to do. He had spent his childhood playing in the woods and his adolescence studying biology. He probably would’ve wound up in this career regardless, but once he starting reading every academic paper on ecology he could get his hands on at the library, his fate was decided. On every ground-breaking publication from the past 20 years was the same name: Ging Freecss. Whether he was the author, co-author, or simply someone acknowledged or referenced, he was there. Gon hadn’t seen Ging in as many years as he had been publishing impressive reports. His aunt Mito was his one and only guardian. Gon wasn’t interested in rekindling a relationship with someone who never contacted him besides in the form of an occasional card (the kind with a message pre-printed in it, with the only addition being his signature). He wanted to prove himself, so that his peers would be surprised when he gave his name because they recognized his first name, not his last. It might’ve seemed petty, but Gon aspired to have his name on great publications, so that Ging would have to acknowledge and reference _him_.

His badge no longer opened the lab doors; all the combinations had been changed. He was taken off the list for any field assignments and his access to the lab was revoked. He moved back home with Mito, which was possibly the best decision he could have made, because for the next several months, he spiraled. His sense of self worth wasn’t just tied to his work, it was woven from the same fabric. Despite his aunt’s best attempts to take his mind off of it, planning lessons for him like she used to (but this time, for things like how to bake a hardy loaf of bread or grow the perfect tomato, rather than mathematics), he was obsessed with getting back into the field.

Whereas before he could vividly see every detail of what it would be like to get his first major publication—he had already written an acceptance speech, though he wasn’t sure who it was meant to be delivered to—he stopped being able to imagine his future at all. When he stopped enjoying Mito’s home cooking and started sleeping irregularly, she intervened. She put her foot down; she’d be damned if her practically-son kept squandering his life away. She called up her old friend, and practicing therapist, Melody. They all worked together to get Gon back on track. He took his first steps towards finding his self-worth in, well, himself.

When Gon found himself at the point where he could take his favorite hike in his hometown to the top of the bluffs and see the breathtaking view as a pretty scene and not an exit strategy, he packed his bags and returned to the laboratory.

He was committed to camping outside the front door and waiting to be let in, but all it took was one almost-polite knock and he was allowed back in. Maybe something on his face had changed after the time he had spent back home, but his request to return to work was finally taken seriously. “I figured you’d be back…” the lab’s principal investigator and his supervisor, Biscuit Krueger, had sighed, before handing him a stack of paperwork. They shook on an agreement: if Gon could get through these papers, he’d be given another chance.

For the next several assignments, he was given a merely assisting role; he was back on the team, but he had been demoted. Gon was once again working under the watchful eye of his mentor, who gladly went back to scolding him for his willful behaviors. But, he held his tongue, as he was grateful to have anything to work on. After a string of successes, he was finally assigned another solo project, at the exact location of his original failure.

When he heard this project’s focus was fungi, he had dryly laughed. He’d be studying organisms that break down and digest other organisms. So much for not thinking about death anymore.

~~~

Taking a walk to blow off some steam was the best action at this point. Gon hadn’t meant to yell at Killua, and he didn’t want to repeat that mistake; even in his rage, he didn’t miss the way the other flinched.

Looping back towards the tent, Gon was still agitated, but was willing to try to talk to Killua again; maybe they had miscommunicated, maybe they wouldn’t have to really fight about this. He didn’t want to have to fight his closest friend.

Gon gingerly opened the tent flap, only to find it empty. “Oh,” he breathed out. Maybe this was more serious than he thought. Was Killua serious then, about his ultimatum? Did he really just quit the project? His eyebrow was twitching again. He had thought that they were closer than _that_ … than to just quit on each other like this.

If Killua really didn’t approve of his methods, then… Gon would just finish the project himself. It was his original plan, anyways. He worked better alone, it was easier, which is why he couldn’t waste this opportunity. His jaw tight, he grabbed his pack and set off to the next location on his list.

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, trying to console himself. He swiped his index finger at his eye, wiping away a bitter tear. The rain ricocheted off his jacket hood, but his face was wet anyways.

All in all, it wasn’t a very productive day. He couldn’t focus on his work. Where had Killua even _gone_? But, was it even his business anymore?

If his cutthroat schedule and meager sleep patterns weren’t making him sluggish at work already, his mind’s preoccupation certainly was. Several times he found himself accidentally circling back to the same sector he had just gathered data from. He couldn’t afford to keep making these mistakes; he had less than a week left and he had yet to find any evidence of a third of the protected rare fungus species list. They had been found in nearby regions previously, and he had to trust the data.

By the time it had started getting dark, Gon had strayed quite far from basecamp. It would have made sense to pack up before he went out that day, but a part of him was holding out on Killua maybe returning, even if he had said he was “done”. Losing visibility, he patted down his pockets for his light. He hissed out a wordless curse at the discovery that, in his haste, he had failed to pack it.

He shrugged. He’d just have to rely on the moonlight. At least the rain had lightened up.

~~~

Gon was carefully digging away the topsoil around some roots when he heard a sniffing sound, not an arm’s length away. All the hairs on his arms stood up. Avoiding making any sudden movements, he turned his head ever so slightly to see: an adorable baby bear.

The cub was very curious about this strange human playing in the dirt near its home. It almost tilted its little head like a dog. Its shiny black eyes puzzled at Gon.

Gon held its gaze. He wondered how the cub got here. There weren’t any reported residential bears in the park anymore. Maybe it was in a traveling group. Maybe it just hadn’t been counted, somehow. Either way, Gon knew one thing for sure: if the cub was here, its mom was too.

He opened his hands, letting the soil fall out from between his gloved fingers, and sat up in a crouching position facing the cub. He didn’t see any larger bears anywhere nearby, but it was fully nighttime, so it was very possible that the adult was observing from the shadows. If so, since he hadn’t already been attacked, he must not be currently deemed a threat. Gon wanted to put some distance between him and the cub, but that would risk accidentally intercepting the mother.

Any move he made was a gamble.

He decided to stay as still as possible until the sun rose. He’d be keeping his own vigil.

Gon maintained an exhausting amount of focus all night, ready to make a mad dash at any moment if he heard any signs or sounds of aggression. By some stroke of luck, he survived the night. The darkness lifted, but he still couldn’t identify any larger bears anywhere. But it would be foolish to assume they weren’t there. He was running out of ideas. Trying to maintain a calm breathing pattern and a relaxed heart beat, he resigned himself to waiting and praying that the bears would move on.

If they didn’t leave before the mother decided Gon was a problem, or if Gon tried to leave and that incited a reaction… When Gon considered that possibility, one thing popped in his mind: Killua. Would he hear the news a day later, wherever he is?

Gon really, truly loved working with Killua. Everything was more fun, from swabbing mushrooms to hiking to seeing who could climb a tree faster (always Gon, except when Killua used dirty tricks). And… it didn’t feel like a coincidence that as soon as Gon resolved to go back to doing this solo, without his trusted partner, he immediately landed himself in a bad situation.

He was kicking himself for getting so angry this morning. Would their last conversation be an unresolved argument? He should know better by now, to not get so fired up anymore. It wasn’t Killua’s fault that Gon didn’t explain everything properly. Gon wasn’t sure why he had neglected to say anything about his bitter past; he had shared all sorts of stories and tales, but he had carefully side-stepped saying anything about his struggles. Maybe he was too proud… maybe he just wanted to impress Killua.

If Gon made it out alive, he would, one, find Killua, no matter where he ran off to, even if he had hopped on a random bus again, and, two, apologize.

The cub was sleeping in a fuzzy ball close enough to touch, until its ear suddenly perked up. Gon could hear the sound of a pair of heavy boots moving through the brush. So could the bear. They both turned and saw a grim-looking park ranger. Gon recognized him; he had run into him the last time he led a large-scale project here, too.

“Kite, don’t come any closer,” he whisper-shouted.

“Gon?” he looked comically surprised to find Gon sitting next to a miniature bear.

Gon tried his best to look sheepish. Kite narrowed his eyes. Hand on his holster, he slowly approached.

“Kite, don’t—“

“Shh!” he soundly cut Gon off. Still moving with caution, he scanned the clearing. He stood beside Gon, and grabbed his shoulder, indicating him to stand up. Both standing side by side, the cub displayed unease. It backed away a few steps, not looking away.

If the hair on Gon’s arms stood up before, the hair on the back of his neck practically jumped off and took flight at the sound he heard this time: the low, unmistakable chuffing of the mother bear through the trees.

“Cover your ears,” Kite said cooly about two seconds before firing.

Opening his eyes that he had squeezed shut instinctively, Gon saw that Kite’s shotgun was still raised to the sky. It had been a warning shot. The cub hadn’t wasted any time in sprinting back towards its mother. She grabbed the cub and vanished into the woods in seconds.

Kite didn’t waste any time in scolding Gon. Trying to save his dignity, he explained that the cub had approached him, he swore.

“You still should be more aware of your surroundings,” Kite would not relent. “Hopefully the young bear has learned not to approach humans anymore… otherwise…” he trailed off.

Kite was an experienced park ranger, and he had seen the best and worst of the parks he had worked in. Gon knew how much he despised having to deal with ‘problem bears’, or any other potentially dangerous animal that had been deemed a threat to humans. But, no one else in the game was as good at dealing with wildlife.

It had been a few years since they last bumped into each other, so they were casually catching up, since the threat had been mitigated, until they suddenly hear a loud noise beside them. They both swiveled around, fearing that another bear had shown up.

Instead, Killua had shown up, and he was disarming Kite.

~~~

Understandably, Kite had his doubts about the suspicious guy who had forcibly taken his shotgun from him. “Gon, who is this man? Does he have something to do with why you were stuck out here in the middle of a mama bear and her cub?”

“No! If anything, he probably would’ve somehow foreseen this and made me go a different way if he had been with me…”

“Oh?” Kite lifted an eyebrow. “Well, maybe you should stick with him then. You really need someone to keep you in check.”

Suddenly bashful, Gon looked away. “I would, if he’d let me.”

“He came all this way to disarm a stranger he thought was threatening you. I’m sure he’ll let you tag along. Anyways, I need to go file a report on all this bear activity. Keep an eye on your six, kid.” With that, he walked away, dialing his radio, preparing to alert the rest of the park service.

~~~

Killua stepped up to an eyes-wide Gon and delicately crowned him with his own headlamp. _Oh_. He had noticed it was left behind and sought him out, to give him back his light. But Killua wasn’t scolding him for his mistake. He was merely looking at him, with a soft expression, eyes crinkled in a half smile. Gon couldn’t meet his eyes, not when he was looking at him like _that_. He hoped it wasn’t obvious that his ears were red.

Killua called him dumb, but before he could half-ass an excuse, his ribcage was crushed. Gon gasped for breath as Killua snorted in his ear. Gon barely had time to wrap his arms around him before he backed away. He felt like his head was spinning, and it was only half due to sleep deprivation.

“You don’t… actually hate me, though, do you?” Gon had to ask.

Killua made an incredulous face, paused, and then said, “No, stupid. Let’s go home,” He took off, walking away from the hillside he had arrived from, seeking a less thrilling route. After weeks of studying the maps he hid from Gon, he had become very familiar with the area.

Gon wanted to believe him, so he followed him without a word.

Back at the campsite for the first time in almost two days, Gon was eager to flop into his sleeping bag. He headed straight to the tent, almost ripping the fabric in his haste to unzip it.

His excitement for taking a nap is what lead to him getting to the tent first and seeing Killua’s sketchbook, which was abandoned on the tent floor, still open to the most recent entry.

Gon stared at the drawing of himself as if he wasn’t sure if he was really seeing it or if he was experiencing sleep deprivation-induced hallucinations (a very real possibility). Gon recognized the moment captured on the paper; it was from their second day working together. It was extremely life-like. It was a drawing of him, no doubt. He grinned at the goofy expression he had in the illustration. Was that how Killua saw him? In the picture, he was sitting beneath a _macrolepiota procera_. Even if he hadn’t sat beneath it himself in person, he would have recognized it. The detail was astounding.

Next to this drawing, there was a light sketch. Maybe Gon was being conceited, but it seemed to also be depicting him, but here he was sitting at a table. He wasn’t sure when he was anywhere like this. He was more interested in the first picture.

Killua entered from his side and immediately froze. He stared at Gon, who didn’t take his eyes off the page to spare even a glance his way. Killua got his attention by snatching his sketchbook out of his hands. Gon hadn’t even realized that he had picked it up.

They stared at each other.

Killua didn’t seem like he was going to say anything. He was gripping his now-closed book like it was the last lifeline he had. He was visibly uncomfortable.

“Killua…” Gon started, despite not knowing what to say. Killua looked away. “It-uh, it’s really good! Seriously. And… um. Sorry for looking without permission,”

“It-it’s fine,” Killua relented. “You only saw that page right?”

“Uh… yeah,”

“Okay.”

Gon just wanted to tell Killua how amazing his drawing was, but he could tell that he wasn’t open to discussion. Was it because he was the subject? Killua had been relatively forthcoming about the drawing of his sister (which was also amazing).

“Have you drawn other mushrooms?”

Killua visibly relaxed at the change of topic. “Oh yeah. Loads of ‘em. They’re so weird I _have_ to draw them,”

“Does that mean I’m weird, too?”

Killua snorted. “Yep. Never met anyone weirder.”

Just happy to see him laugh again, Gon giggled too.

Despite the easy conversation, Gon could still feel the tension in the air. He knew he needed to make it up to Killua, to convince him to give him another chance, but he didn’t want to mess it up again. He was too groggy to use his words properly or efficiently, though. As he was slowly trying to string together the right thing to say, Killua broke the silence. “Gon, you should really get some sleep. You look like a mess, dude.”

~~~

Finally waking from hibernation, Gon looked over to find he was alone in the tent, but could hear the sounds of a fire crackling outside. Killua was cooking breakfast, or, rather, lunch. Killua noticed him sticking his head out of the tent and grinned. “Put some clothes on and get out here or I’ll eat it all!”

Gon stumbled out of the tent with a sweatshirt half pulled over his head, yelling, “Noooo!”

They shared a lazy morning together, like nothing had happened. But, as they washed up after the meal, hanging the dishes to dry in the afternoon sun, Killua faced Gon solemnly. “I’ve been thinking…”

Gon didn’t want to hear the rest. “I’m sorry!” he yelped, effectively cutting him off.

Killua sat down in the grass. “…for?” he tried to lead.

Gon sat down across from him, hugging his knees in his arms. “Yelling at you…” he muttered.

This wasn’t the right answer. “That’s not it dude, yell all you want. Don’t you remember what I said to you the other day?”

“You said I didn’t know how to do my job.”

“Huh? No I didn’t!”

Gon was taken aback. _Huh?_ “Didn’t you?”

“I… okay, I don’t remember the exact words I used but that isn’t what I meant Gon. I know you’re good at what you do. Even if your methods are… unconventional.”

Gon was more taken aback. “Ah… oh. Well, thanks.”

Killua dragged his hand over his face as if this conversation was giving him a migraine. He groaned, and then met Gon’s eyes. “Gon. I said you need to do things differently, because you aren’t doing things safely. I know this is important to you, and I know the deadline’s coming up, but you really need to put yourself first.”

“How do you know about the deadline?” was the only response Gon could put together.

“Huh?” Now Killua looked taken aback. “Oh, right, Palm told me.”

“When did Palm tell you that?!”

“Oh, we’re _super_ close now, we’re practically best friends.” Killua cooed sardonically.

Not picking up on the sarcasm at first, Gon felt hurt. Since when were Palm and Killua even on speaking terms? If they were best friends, what did that make Gon? He was probably joking… but why was Palm sharing stuff without asking first? She had always been meddlesome, but usually only when she had a good reason. How much else had she shared?

Before Gon could ponder it any longer, Killua threw a fist of grass shreds into his face that he must have been covertly plucking behind his back.

Spitting out a blade or two, he complained and sputtered. Killua shrugged impishly. “Listen. To. What. I’m. Saying.” he leaned forward, jabbing a finger into his forehead with each word. “Forget Palm! Did you hear the rest of what I said?!”

“…yes.”

“What did I say.”

“I’m not being safe… and I need to put myself first…”

“Ding ding ding!” He poked his head three more times, then sat back.

Gon rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t think you realize how important this project is to me.”

“I have a good idea. I don’t think you realize how important you are to me.”

That shut Gon up. He stared at Killua, who was squeezing his lips shut as if the words he had just said had slipped out on their own, in wonderment.

Unclenching his jaw, he continued, “I mean it. You better stop risking your wellbeing for these damn mushrooms, Gon.”

“I’m not—“

“Listen! You can’t seriously try to tell me you know what you’re doing anymore, either. I don’t know all the details about what happened with that Kite guy, but it didn’t look good. It looked like both of us had to come save your ass. And you need to _sleep_. Today’s the first day I can remember that the bags under your eyes weren’t bigger than your eyes.” Gon reflexively rubbed his eyes. Killua’s harsh tone softened, slightly. “Let me help you, Gon. Even if you don’t have all the data you wanted, we can still collate what you do have really well and then you can still turn in something impressive.”

“I guess… I could focus on the report more and the fieldwork a bit less,” Gon conceded.

“Thank you, Gon. I know it’s not what you want to do, but even if you end up crashing and burning, we can figure out the next move when we get there.”

“Together?” Gon asked, small.

“Together.” Killua promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long for a whole chapter in Gon's perspective... I needed him to be a lil mysterious.
> 
> I felt like I kept name-dropping people in Gon's past who don't really show up in this, but I chose context over vagueness.
> 
> This one felt like kind of a bummer, but at least we already knew Gon would be okay until Killua found him.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	11. Blusher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything wraps up, a little _too_ well.

When it happened, it just made sense. It was the natural solution, right underneath their noses. Gon and Killua were basking in the mid-morning light, sitting in the hammock together. Rather than kicking their legs, swinging, they sat facing away from each other. Killua sat cross-legged against Gon, using him like a backrest, while drawing something in his sketchbook, while Gon shuffled through his notes and tried to make sense of them.

Having decided he had spent enough time looking at his own scrawled writing, Gon shifted around and was about to leap out of the hammock when he saw what Killua was drawing.

“Hey, Killua, what’s that?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“A mushroom. Wow, maybe you do need to spend all day in the field! You’re already rusty.”

Gon shoved him. “Where did you see it?”

Killua scratched his chin with his pen, in thought. “Huh… I’m not sure. We saw it last week.”

Gon knew this. “Do you remember every mushroom we’ve seen?”

This went straight to the artist’s ego, for he had been blessed with a good visual-spatial memory. “I won’t make any big claims, but probably.” He was smug.

Grabbing his shoulder and shaking him excitedly, “Killua! What would you say to making illustrations for everything I’ve catalogued!”

Killua was surprised enough at the offer that he let himself be shaken about. “Oh… that’s actually a pretty good idea. Yeah, I could probably draw some shrooms for ya.”

And so the researcher-artist duo set to work, matching Gon’s notes and data to scientific illustrations that Killua sketched up after having his memory jogged by a description of the specimen and timeframe. Killua had just the right skillset for this exercise, he excelled at capturing the likeness of people and things he had seen. He didn’t have a perfect memory or anything, but he remembered the things he studied intentionally. It just so happened that he had already been paying close attention to the odd fungi in the woods, simply because he admired the natural shapes they grew in.

Realistically, there wasn’t enough time left to continue perusing the area, hoping to find the last few rare species. Killua had already convinced Gon of this, and, just for his sake, Gon had agreed to give up the chase. So, with the last few days they had left, the two focused on building the report and simply enjoying living in nature together. They were able to just appreciate where they were again, now that they weren’t rushing for a last-minute Hail Mary anymore.

Gon lazily kicked a leg in the air as he watched Killua, still slumped against him, sketch the round shape of the mushroom he had convinced him to poke on their first day working together. After stippling some dimples and other blemishes, he turned around to show Gon and confirm that it’s the right mushroom, but he was already looking at it. Not wanting to be observed, Killua turned himself the other way with outstretched legs, his feet pressed into Gon’s side, so there was no more snooping.

Not ashamed at all for being caught, he said, “Yep! That’s the puffball we saw.”

“Don’t you have something to work on,” Killua grumbled.

“I’m just takin’ it easy!”

~~~

In the late afternoon light, swinging gently in the breeze, Gon drew drowsy. He blinked his eyes open, realizing that they had been shut, and saw that, across from him, Killua was also feeling drowsy. In fact, he was asleep. His sketchbook had slipped from his fingers to his lap, where it was opened to the drawing of him. Ever curious, Gon leaned over to look at it again, only to realize it wasn’t the drawing he had seen before. How many drawings of him were in there?

Gon grinned, imagining the look on Killua’s face if he were to ask him that. He did want to know the answer, though. Thinking about Killua taking the time to draw him filled him with a warm joy. He had seen for himself the care and intent he put into a sketch of a mushroom. Was he that careful when he drew his face, too? Gon wished that he had the artistic skill to make a reciprocal drawing. Maybe he would try, even if just to get a laugh out of Killua.

This was how he got the wise idea to try to capture Killua’s sleeping face in his notebook. He went through several pages; none of his drawings looked like him. He was in the midst of furiously erasing a particularly incorrect line when his subject was disturbed from his nap.

“How long was I out,” he yawned.

Gon guiltily snapped his journal shut. “Um… uh, not long,” he stammered.

Awake enough to be suspicious, Killua squinted. “Were you… watching me sleep, weirdo?”

“N-no! I was just drawing you!” he denied before realizing that admitting that was worse.

“You-what!” Blushing, Killua jumped him and ripped the journal he was suspiciously clutching away from him. Holding him back with one arm, he flipped through the notes with his other.

“Ah, no! Killua don’t look it’s _bad_!” Gon struggled, but couldn’t reach his journal.

Killua leisurely flipped through the pages, until, _there_ , he found it. Five pages of a scratchy, messy version of him stared back. He couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Aw, don’t laugh, okay! I tried! I’m not as good as you…”

This only prompted Killua to snicker uncontrollably. Gon was able to wiggle out of his hold and retrieve his notes. He pouted. “I was just trying to be like you…” he said under his breath.

Killua paused. “What do you mean by that?”

There. Gon had an opening to destroy him. He steeled himself, carefully keeping his face composed. “Well, you seem to draw me _allllll_ the time, so.”

Killua flushed, but even so, tried to fight back, “What do you know about that?”

“Ha! So you do! I was just guessing since I’ve seen two different drawings of me in there.”

Killua slapped himself in the (very red) face. He had been played.

It was true. Killua did draw him all the time. It was about all he could draw, lately. The last third of his sketchbook was filled with Gon’s stupid, impish face. It was all he wanted to draw. Marking down how he looked when he was being goofy or being serious, it was as if while Gon was cataloguing fungi, he was cataloguing Gon. He was keeping a record of who he was, to forever remember these times by.

“So?”

“So what.”

“How many times have you drawn me, Killua?”

Killua hopped out and grabbed two fistfuls of polyester. With one motion, he upturned the hammock, dumping the inquisitive idiot face-first on the ground.

~~~

The flames of the fire flickered across their faces as Gon procured the very last marshmallows they would share in these woods. He tossed one in the air, and a jumping Killua expertly caught it in his mouth. All those hard nights of practice had paid off. He fist pumped the air in victory.

The marshmallows were as squishy and delicious as always, but it was somewhat bittersweet, to be using the very last of them.

The two were quiet as they melted over the fire.

~~~

Killua knew he had a lot of bad habits. One of them was his idealistic belief that some things should just go unsaid between friends. He felt uncomfortable thanking people, he only apologized if it was absolutely necessary, and he avoided putting feelings to words. Instead, he’d rather draw something representative of whatever he was feeling, and then move on.

After much deliberation and anguish, he had realized it. Gon had worked his way into his life with ease, and just as smoothly into his heart. Hanging out with him was fun, but it was more than that. He had become Someone Important, and _that_ was why he had gotten so upset with Gon. His lack of self-importance felt like a personal affront! Killua felt embarrassed to even _think_ the word, but he knew had picked that fight out of love. He had searched for him in the setting sun when he had no flashlight out of love. He had drawn Gon over and over in his sketchbook out of love.

In a way, Ikalgo had been right. Well, he was wrong in thinking that they had any particular ‘relationship’, but they had been toeing the line. Neither of them shied away from waking up a foot or less apart or from sitting up against each other. Killua placed immense amounts of trust in Gon, and he knew Gon did the same. Killua had been falling asleep on him since they met; he had always innately trusted him.

But, he knew that he couldn’t rely on Gon to read his mind and understand, despite how much easier that would be. So, he resolved to actually say something with words this time.

He stood in front of Gon, who was writing something down in his hammock by the light of the stars.

“Thirty-seven.”

“What?”

“Thirty-seven. Is how many times I’ve drawn you.” Killua was braced in a stance like he was ready to fight, but his face looked like he was ready to run away. “Not like all of them are finished drawings… a lot of them are just sketches or whatever…”

“Wow,” Gon breathed.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Uh… I’m not sure what to say. Thanks for telling me?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Is it _nothing_?” Gon smiled. “Thirty-seven nothings?”

Killua stifled his urge to pull out his hair. “Okay. It’s something. It’s a lot of things. One of the things is that I like you.” There. He said it. Thank fuck that was over.

Gon’s eyebrows flew off his face.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just thought I’d say it, if it… wasn’t obvious already…”

“Killua, you’re _always_ calling me dumb! Do you really expect me to just… know that?!” Gon chided. “Wait, but… do you really mean it?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

“Oh. Um… I like you too, actually…” Gon blushed from his toes to his ears, but Killua could just make out the darkness on his cheeks in the dim light.

Gon was avoiding eye contact, and Killua took advantage of it, overwhelming him in a tight hug. “Need… air,” Gon wheezed. Killua pulled back a little, just enough to kiss Gon on the forehead. Gon breathed in sharply. Trying to get him back, he squeezed Killua with as much force as he had been subjected to, then threw off his balance to pull him into the hammock with him. Or, at least, that was the plan. Rather than being slick, he just caused both of them to tumble off of the hammock onto the ground, where they lay in a pile cracking up.

~~~

Gon was in disbelief that Killua had said he liked him. He woke up the next morning, thinking it had been a dream, but the proof that it had happened in the waking world was right there: Killua, pinning him down with an outstretched arm, halfway out of his sleeping bag. When Gon pushed the arm off his chest, Killua’s eyelids lifted, not as if he had just woken up, but as if he had been lying there awake with his eyes shut. Lifting his head by his other arm folded beneath it, he lazily said, “Good morning,” as if it was simply natural.

On a regular morning, had they woken up so close to each other, they would’ve both shimmied their bags away, and then get ready for the day as if nothing had happened. Gon wasn’t prepared to see Killua’s face so close to his for such a long duration, and he instinctively backed away. Seeing Killua’s raised eyebrow, he laughed sheepishly and returned the “good morning”.

“Do you not like… being close?” Killua finally asked.

“Oh! No, it’s just-I’m used to giving you space in the morning!”

“Oh. You too?” Killua looked genuinely surprised.

Gon laughed with his stomach, loud and strong. They had both been dancing around each other the whole time. The truth was, ever since he first fell asleep on his shoulder, he had felt safe in his presence (definitely not unrelated to the many times Killua had dragged him away from danger). He knew from the start he wanted to stick around with Killua, in whatever form it took. He admired Killua, who was able to travel around freely and unburdened, able to just enjoy the adventures he found himself on, unlike Gon, who felt like he was stuck on a predetermined path. And they had _so much fun_ together. The more he got to know him, the more he wanted to stay together, and the more he fell for him, but he hadn’t wanted it to get in the way of their friendship. He just wanted to be near him.

But, they had naturally gotten closer and closer. If he had stepped back, maybe he would’ve realized they had woken up in the tent a little too close more often than not, as if they were drawn to each other even while dreaming. He never reevaluated how often he found his hand in Killua’s, or how neither of them said anything when one hand grabbed the other. And, of course, he didn’t think too hard about the implications of Killua somehow seeking him out in the middle of the woods, eager to save him, and then boldly declaring how important Gon was as if it were obvious.

He wriggled out of his sleeping bag and declared, “Well, I’m ready to make some new habits,” before leaning over Killua to kiss him on the forehead, something he had thought about many times before. “Good morning!”

“You already said that, stupid,” Killua smiled as he pulled him down into a real kiss.

Breaking contact, Gon sat back and pouted. “I know! I’m saying that’s how I’ll greet you in the morning now.”

Sporting a goofy grin, Killua told him to shut up, then got up to go make some coffee.

Still in the tent, Gon was sure he looked even goofier. He tried to force the muscles in his face into a composed state before heading out, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

About a month ago, Gon hadn’t been too happy to learn he’d have to study the very being that eats up dead stuff, to oversimplify fungi greatly, but it was a necessary part of the cycle of life. It was true that everything taken from nature would return to it, as he had once bitterly said. But, it would get reused and recycled, with the help of things like mushrooms. Rather than constantly envisioning death, he was now seeing opportunity for new growth.

He had yearned to be able to lead a study on his own again, but maybe working together with someone else wasn’t so bad.

Now, he was very happy he had been given this study, and especially that he had been on the same bus as Killua.

~~~

On the last morning of their time allotted together in the wilderness, Gon finally felt brave enough to come clean. He didn’t want to have another miscommunication of overblown proportions, and he trusted Killua with all of his being. So he explained what had happened the last time he was assigned to these very woods, what had happened at his home, and how we was better now, but still called Melody every now and then to check in. He even mumbled an admission of his tendencies to prioritize work over his health… Killua hadn’t been wrong. “The real reason I was so upset that morning, was because so much is riding on this project.”

As expected, Killua accepted everything he told him without judgement, but with one add-on: “Well, the real reason I was upset with you to begin with was because I loved you,” Killua said, as if reciting a fact from a textbook.

Gon stared, his mouth hanging open.

“Well, not just past tense. It’s present tense too,” he amended.

“Killua, I love you too,” Gon all but whispered.

“Oh, don’t make such a fuss. I thought it was obvious.” Killua was acting cool again, but his ears still turned red at hearing those three words.

“Maybe I’m stupid, but it’s not obvious to me!”

“Ah, right, I forgot you were an idiot. Well, I love you. There, got it?”

Gon couldn’t even pretend to be offended. He felt like he was floating through space.

“I understand better now how you felt, but I just couldn’t bare to see you work yourself so hard,” Killua continued on, regardless of Gon’s dazed state. “I didn’t realize I loved you until I saw you again after our fight, and felt _so damn_ relieved that you were okay… I guess talking things over with my friends and Palm helped too…”

“Ah! Palm! We promised we’d stop by again before this was over!”

“You’re right… and I owe her,” Killua trailed off.

“Huh? Wait, also, tell me about your friends!”

Killua gladly filled Gon in.

~~~

Palm wasn’t surprised that Gon chose to drop by her house, rather than meet her at the diner. He was still embarrassed about what happened the first time he came here. It was rare that he would even mention it, and it felt like he avoided his old friends here as if, in doing so, he could also avoid facing his past.

So, Palm was surprised to learn that he had shared every detail with her new collaborator, Killua. Something had certainly changed since she picked his sad-sack self up off the street just days ago. No doubt, her wise teachings got through to him. She should start a blog.

Of course, they had not planned to stay long. They were purely dropping by so they could say they did, since they had both promised to do so. Before he could escape, Palm looked Gon square in the eye for a minute, trying to scare some sense into him. He bounded out, telling Killua he’d meet him outside. For Killua, Palm had a special gift. They repeated the gifting of the paintbrush, an encore of the original event. He agreed to make good use of it. Before he left, he promised to visit for longer than 30 minutes next time.

~~~

Gon combined his touched-up notes with Killua’s completed illustrations. He added a short essay explaining the implications of his research to the end of the report. With that, it was over. He would type some of the data into the lab’s database later, but besides that, the project was complete. All in all, it was a pretty compelling summary of the refuge’s ecological importance. Even if he got docked for not finding all the critical species, it was a result worth being proud of. It would contribute to the preservation of the land for them and future generations to continue to learn from.

Gon hugged the report to his chest. “We’re done, Killua!” Killua smiled softly. “Well, now we have to go deliver it to my lab and defend it!”

“We?” Killua asked in mock disbelief.

Gon’s face drooped. “O-oh, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to…”

“I’m joking, dummy!” Killua ruffled his hair up. “I said we’d do this together, didn’t I? I’ll see this through to the end.”

This didn’t quite erase Gon’s gloom. “What about… after?” Gon choked out.

Killua blinked at him, eyes wide. “What do _you_ want to do… after?” he asked, tentatively.

“Um. My next assignment probably won’t be for at least a month for two, depending on how this goes.” Gon didn’t answer the question.

“Since it sounds like you don’t already have plans, would you want to visit my sister with me?”

Gon’s droopy face immediately perked up. “Yes!”

Killua grinned. He kissed away any remaining droopiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus concludes the story! There is one more chapter (an epilogue, if you will), that I'm going to try to spend a little more time on than usual, but the mushroom journey is officially done.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this! It means a lot! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	12. Bird's Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue, of sorts.

It had been Alluka’s suggestion to create a _Hunter Instant Messenger_ account for Gon. He sat at a computer in the university’s computer lab, which was slowly booting up. Alluka was coaching him through the process. Killua leant against the back of the chair and simply observed the interaction between his younger sister and his boyfriend. He had nothing to say until they reached the information stage of the account creation process. Gon typed in email, name, and screen name before getting smacked upside the back of his head.

“Idiot! You can’t make your username that!”

Rubbing his neck, Gon blinked at what he had typed: **gonfreeccs**. “What are you talking about? It says it’s not taken yet.”

“Have you no sense of dignity? Or self-preservation? The Internet is anonymous! That’s the whole point!” Killua shout-lectured directly into his ear. One of the other students in the room glanced over at the ruckus. Killua glared at them until they averted their attention back to their own screen.

Gon grumbled to himself about not needing anonymity if he was just messaging his friends, but he knew better than to dispute it, so he hit backspace, removing the offending screen name from existence. He stared at the empty text box for a minute, as Killua grew more and more impatient.

Killua straightened up, sighing. “Just come up with something and add me when you got it, okay? I need to get to class.” He locked eyes with his favorite little sister. “Don’t let him choose anything dumb.”

“Aye, aye, bro,” she saluted him, watching as he sauntered off, letting the door slam shut behind him. As soon as he was out of sight, she pulled up a chair by Gon, turning it around and sitting on it backwards. “Okay, now that he’s gone, let’s come up with something _good_.”

~~~

Immediately following the submission of their final report, Gon and Killua had traveled to Yorknew to visit Alluka, Killua’s sister, and bum off of Leorio, Killua’s gaming friend who also happened to be her floor’s resident assistant. They only visited briefly, while waiting to hear back about the results of their study, but that short visit had a lasting impact. Thanks to Alluka, it wasn’t long before they returned.

As Killua’s number-one fan, Alluka had received a hand-delivered first-edition copy of their finished product. While she did skim through the report, she was really in it for the detailed illustrations of the various mushrooms and fungi mentioned in the text. Alluka knew nothing about this (nothing beyond what precursory knowledge she had from her mandatory introductory biology course), but she could tell they were _good_.

The shapes were exact and the mark making was precise, and with such a breadth of work… not long after receiving the report, she had created a marked up copy. Alluka’s edition took Killua’s images (with summarized descriptions from the report) and combined them with some of his past work that he had previously sent her. In other words, she had doctored together a portfolio.

Alluka chose her school based on the reputation of its philosophy department, but the fine arts department was also top-tier. She pestered Killua into allowing her to show the portfolio to some of the faculty members she knew through her roommate. They all had nothing but good things to say (not to the _very_ proud sister’s surprise). Killua agreed to apply to the program, without expectations of getting in or to being able to afford it. But, on the recommendation of a certain mural-painting alumnus, his application was swiftly accepted. As a young adult supporting himself, he received a sizable scholarship offer. If he secured a reasonable part-time job, it was manageable.

By the time the offer had been sent, Gon and Killua had already returned to the lab, and Gon had already received his feedback. In short, he wasn’t going to be excommunicated like he had feared. Gon was able to keep working on the same caliber of projects, which was something worth celebrating all on its own. Killua decided to set out to seek his fortune, and officially accepted the offer. They had a few months before he’d have to move to the city, and he assisted Gon and the lab until then. The head of the lab was more than happy to call upon his illustration skills to add some flair to her reports. They managed to squeeze one more (smaller) field study in before making the move. The time in between submitting the mushroom study and the end of the summer went by too quickly. It goes without saying that Gon helped Killua move in, proud to send him off on his first day.

Killua hadn’t ever planned on going to a real school, but Alluka had pled her case well. Her older brother was very smart, he just lacked direction. Many people cite their undergraduate experience as how they figured out what they wanted to pursue in life. Maybe Killua would find something… or, maybe, once he got into the art studio, he would realize that he was on par with the other art students, if not way beyond them. Alluka didn’t express the latter part to him, as that was her hidden agenda. Plus, she was there! He had promised they’d be together again soon, and he owed her. So, Killua moved to Yorknew to pursue his arts education. Of course, he’d take a variety of classes and try different subjects, but the portfolio automatically granted him a spot in the distinguished arts department.

The siblings signed up for an apartment-style dorm together for the next year. They were elated to get to live together, on their own, finally. And, hey, someone had to show Killua around the campus! Despite being younger, Alluka had a full year of college over him, and she reveled in being the one to teach him how things worked around there. She explained to him the different buildings and places to get food from, the best and worst professors, and how to get into the coolest underground shows even as a freshman. Of course, it would just be a matter of time before Killua became very popular, even if for nothing else then being able to buy booze sooner than his peers.

~~~

Killua stretched his arms out wide and bent at the waist, hearing several satisfying pops and cracks that frightened another freshman who happened to be passing by in the hall. Sitting on the workbench in his drawing class never failed to stiffen up his back. He stepped outside in the sunlight for the first time in several hours, finally escaping from the arts building.

There was still some time before his shift in the library started, so he ordered some food to eat on the lawn in front of the library. He sat down in the grass and breathed a sigh of content.

He pulled his shiny new flip phone out of his backpack, checking to see if he had any new messages. He had one missed call; he snorted and hit redial. “Hey Ikalgo—”

~~~

Ikalgo had turned out to also be attending college, though he was further ahead than Killua, as he had wasted no time to further his education after the end of high school (a normal public one, also unlike Killua). He studied art history (among other things), and had lengthy discussions with Killua, via the new cellphone. During one particularly heated debate about contemporary art, Killua unintentionally invited him over, “You really think that shit’s worth anything? Come over here and say that to my face!”

“Killua, all I’m saying is, art can be simple and still be meaningful and even incredibly time-consuming due to research, preparation, and—hold the phone, you really want me to come school you in person?”

“Yeah, I am holding a phone,” he drawled, before blinking and realizing what had been said. “Yeah, you know what? Come try to defend your dumb opinion to my face. I dare you.”

And so, Ikalgo did just that. It had been almost five years since they had seen each other, but they picked things right back up where they left them. Ikalgo nearly knocked the door down and got right down to telling him off about abstract expressionism. When things calmed and the dust settled, Killua showed off some of his pieces, and everyone was properly introduced. “Ah, the infamous tent mate,” he said meaningfully, before Killua shoved him back out of the dorm.

Ikalgo’s school wasn’t in the city, but it wasn’t too far away. Whenever Killua could manage to do his homework early, he would visit him on the weekend and they’d explore the parks nearby; there just wasn’t much greenery in Yorknew. Other times, Ikalgo would visit the city and bring him around the museums and give in-depth explanations about the featured artists and their impact as if he were part of a guided tour package Killua had certainly not signed up for, though he listened with interest nonetheless. Regardless of which neighborhood they were in, they always shared a long-distance run through the streets.

~~~

On this particular day, Killua was scheduled for just a few hours. He had lined up this gig in advance, to ensure he’d be able to pay for food and board with a little wiggle room. As a student worker, he didn’t have too much responsibility; it was just a part-time library job, after all. Sometimes he would shelve books or sort reference materials, but mostly he was there to answer questions. He would point people to the right section, or help find research for a certain topic, and then go back to doing nothing.

Luckily, he could almost always count on his good ‘ol oreo to be studying away like the book monkey he was. There weren’t too many confused students, so he snuck away from the front desk and sought out a certain med student to bother.

Past the clusters of stressed and pressed students huddled around large tables and just before the tables gave way to rows of shelves of heavy books, there was one table occupied by books, papers, and just one student. He was pouring over a textbook, furiously taking notes in an open notebook without looking as he wrote. Like a true would-be doctor, he was already honing his handwriting to be as illegible as possible.

Killua slipped around the adjacent tables, approaching from behind and out of sight. Standing to the right of the very focused student, he tapped him on his left shoulder. He startled and looked to the left, finding absolutely nothing. As he turned to check his right, Killua ducked under the table, crawled through the legs of a chair or two, and popped up on the other side of the table, already seated across from his friend.

“Killua!” he bellowed, to the frustration of the nearby students. This floor of the library wasn’t strictly silent, and students came here to collaborate, but common courtesy dictated speaking at a low volume in consideration of others. Not even slightly embarrassed to be yelling in a library, he continued in a more normal volume, “When did you get here?”

“How rude!” Killua scoffed. “I’ve been here the whole time, and you didn’t even _realize_? I thought we had something, Leorio.”

“You’re such a little shit…”

After spending an appropriate time smirking, Killua asked how his midterms were going.

“Awful, as always,” Leorio grimaced.

“You say that, but I bet you got all A’s… you’re _that_ asshat who complains about failing the exam after staying up all night studying for it. And then you get the highest grade in the class!”

“I didn’t get the highest grade!” the over-achiever rebutted. “And you act like I spend too much time studying, when I _know_ you pull just as many all-nighters working on your projects, bucko.”

The other over-achiever at the table shrugged. “I can’t turn in garbage! I have a reputation to maintain, man.” Killua’s expression shifted to something worryingly mischievous. “Speaking of maintaining reputations… what’s going on between you and that barista boy?”

“K-Kurapika!? Nothing is _going on_. We’re just friends!” he protested weakly.

Killua grandly waved his hand over the desk, highlighting the multitude of abandoned coffee cups. “You seem to get coffee from them _a lot_ …”

Leorio slumped in his chair, hiding his red face behind an open textbook. Killua cackled.

~~~

Alluka’s old RA, Leorio, made damn sure not to be assigned to their building. He knew Killua would’ve made his life a living hell. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Killua from finding which building he _was_ in, and constantly visiting it. Sometimes he would loiter in his room, gaming until the wee hours, and then pass out on his couch. At least he couldn’t make his work hours any harder. Leorio liked seeing him, anyway, even if he was the type of gamer to shout expletives when things didn’t go his way. If he did mind his company, he would have stopped studying in the library on days he knew Killua was working, after all. He actually cross-referenced their schedules to ensure they had time to catch up. Not that he would admit it.

He had been relieved that they remained as friends even after accidentally discovering his identity through his sister. It had turned out that both of them were fans of the same artist: Killua. Leorio was very familiar with his work, and it was damn impressive (even if he only started following him for posting certain fan art of a game they both played). It wasn’t a surprise that he was accepted into the prestigious art school here. So, he had helped his sister in her plot to get him to come to their school, putting in a good word with as many higher-ups as he knew.

~~~

The doorknob clicked open as it was unlocked, and as soon as the door was shoved open, a familiar smell wafted into the hallway of the dormitory. Killua’s eyebrows pulled together. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” he bit out.

Stomping into the dorm with indignation, he saw both the culprit and the accomplice, pointed at the latter, and accused, “You!”

“Me?” she innocently responded.

“Stop letting this idiot in here!”

“Idiot?” the idiot innocently asked over the pan of beans he was pushing around with a wooden spatula.

Killua continued stomping until he had stomped right into his room and shut the door (he didn’t slam it, though, he still maintained basic decency even in his bean-fueled rage). “Honestly. I labor all day long to support this household and this is what I get? Simply ungrateful, the lot of them,” he muttered. Of course, he had really only worked for three hours at most, and he spent about half of the time talking with Leorio.

He ripped his backpack open, and sorted through the assignments he still had to work on. He resigned himself to trying to get something done, opting to pretend he wasn’t fated to eat another bean-concoction tonight. He cracked open a textbook.

~~~

Killua excelled in all his classes, regardless of the subject, but Alluka’s secret plan had turned out to be a success. Even in the most introductory conceptual art classes, Killua managed to stand out from the rest. Of course, that’s not necessarily difficult in the intro classes that many people outside the department take, but he wasn’t just impressing the math majors fulfilling their creative elective, he was impressing the tenured professors, faculty, and staff. He became fast friends with his advisor, who helped him select his classes.

His second semester was more difficult. By then, everyone knew of his talent. He was respected by his peers, who would ask for his opinion on their work, which he was all too happy to provide. The professors were eager to take him under their wing and expand his skills as much as possible, pushing him to the limit. Some of their methods were… unusual. A certain balding and bespectacled lecturer led a rather familiar exercise in which the whole class took turns popping paint balloons. In another class, Killua had to draw a portrait of another student using a piece of charcoal taped to the end of a yardstick. Every project he was assigned was more open-ended and less concrete than the last. It seemed they were hellbent to break him out of his comfort zone. And Killua loved it.

He would pick up a useful minor or two, perhaps join Alluka with philosophy, just to be sure he had a backup plan, but Killua was starting to be able to envision a future where he was a real artist—a capital ‘a’ Artist. Not just a hobbyist who sketches what he sees from time-to-time, but someone who lives and breathes their art. Maybe one day he could return to Palm’s as her equal. This change in attitude made it a little easier to branch out, draw a little more fluidly, and experiment with non-representational art for the first time. Being surrounded by professionals ready to shower him with validation and encouragement didn’t hurt either.  
While Killua was experimenting with new styles and mediums, one thing about his art remained constant: his never-dying need to sketch a certain someone’s face at least once a day. His hands moved on their own, they had already memorized all the lines, curves, and freckles.

Gon had continued to work at Biscuit’s lab at first. Killua couldn’t exactly keep accompanying him on trips once he started school, though. Gon spent the first semester hanging around the apartment whenever possible; he’d go out of his way to schedule field work such that he’d pass through Yorknew along the way. Of course, he’d pop in on the way back, too. One semester was about all he could take of that. For the first time in his life, his priorities had shifted, such that gaining prestige in conservationism wasn’t the only thing that mattered nor the most important thing to him. He told Biscuit he was taking a break, but lucky for him, she happened to have some connections in the city. So, while Killua was in class or working away on his various projects, Gon was assisting in a research lab just across the street from the university. This unintentional detour would lead to his name finally being published on some fairly reputable documents.

~~~

Back in the kitchenette part of the dorm, Gon was leaning over his bean dish trying to stifle his laughter. Alluka giggled into her hand. Gon did intend to eat yet another bean burrito, but he was actually just preparing lunch for tomorrow. They had already ordered a pizza. Ever since Gon had first met Alluka, they had instantly shook on a pranking partnership. It was too easy to get Killua.

Alluka had been surprised when Killua first said he was going to visit her at school, and with someone else in tow. He had been away from the family house for not even two months then; not only had he found an adventure, he had found a new friend. She sniffled a little, her mind wandering back to memories of their childhood. Thank goodness they were both able to escape the political clutches of the Zoldycks and find their own way in the world.

As soon as Gon and Killua had first arrived for their visit, Alluka had sat them down in her tiny dorm and demanded a dramatic re-telling of all their adventures that she had missed out on (a little personal flair she added to coax them into spilling). They passed many hours just sharing stories. Killua would go off about a grand mission they went on, only to be interrupted by Gon, saying, “That’s not at all what happened!” or, “Stop exaggerating to make yourself look cooler!” In short, it was very entertaining.

When the pizza delivery arrived, and they summoned Killua from his room, the look of relief on his face was comical. “Is my cooking _that_ bad?” Gon sniffed.

“Yes.” Killua supplied without hesitation. In reality, it wasn’t that he found it bad, he was just tired of eating camp-style beans when they were living in a city. He was about to take a huge bite of a cheesy slice when his phone went off. He looked at it. He had gotten a new _HIM_ message from Leorio. Apparently, a strange looking account had friended him. Killua squinted at the screen name in question: **fungi_more_like_funguy**. Killua thumbed at the phone, navigating to his own friend list (a task that would have been trivial on a computer). Suspicions confirmed, the same user had also added him.

He slapped the phone down and glared down the table. “Fungi more like fun guy?” he asked, dryly. Gon’s face twisted as he fought down a smile.

“Why did the mushroom get invited to the party?” Alluka asked with the energy of a pro standup comedian.

“Why? Why?” Gon asked, as if he was dying to know.

“ _Because he was a fun guy!_ ”

They both rolled with laughter.

~~~

At the end of the second semester, some of Killua’s work was on display in the university gallery. Gon was first in line on opening day. As a freshman, he wasn’t given that much space in the show. But, that didn’t mean Gon didn’t spend a solid hour staring at his section and definitely, absolutely not eavesdropping on what other guests were saying about his boyfriend’s art.

Killua was proud of himself, but he was so thankful that his first year was over. He had never been to school; he was homeschooled by various hired tutors and personal teachers his whole life. This was completely different. He had also never _studied_ art or taken it seriously. But, he was managing to get along with the other students in his classes, and having peers to bounce ideas off of and exchange critique with was honestly really beneficial. He was surrounded by people to learn from.

Killua had expected Gon to resume his old ecological work when summer break started, assuming he’d be itching to get back into the field and work, work, work. Instead, he revealed plans to the road trip he had been plotting. They were going to drive around and try to see as many different parks and landscapes as possible, camping and backpacking along the way, but strictly for fun and not for work this time. Nothing but classic summer break shenanigans; nonsense only. Gon really had learned the meaning of taking it easy. After being forced to do things like… _study_ and _goto class_ for months, Killua was itching to take a mental vacation.

They tried to invite Alluka to come along with, but she apparently had already lined up an internship. She also might have muttered something about not wanting to “intrude on the honeymoon” under her breath.

On the first night of their latest and greatest month-long voyage, they parked the car on the side of the road, climbed on top of its roof, and simply gazed at the sky above them, counting the stars until they lost count. Many things had changed since they first met, and their relationship was constantly shifting and changing shape, but everything still felt the same at the end of the day. Even if Killua became a widely-acclaimed artist or something, he would still be most content next to Gon out in the open air. Even if Gon became the most influential researcher in his field, he would still travel to the ends of the earth to see how Killua looked when he was looking up at the sky.

Gon turned his head slightly, towards his best friend. “Killua, do you want to live together next year?”

“What? You practically already live on our couch,” he chided, not breaking eye contact with the single wispy cloud floating over the horizon.

“That’s not what I mean! Well, yeah, maybe I come over to see you guys a lot… but would you like to get an apartment together?”

“I think we already missed the deadline to change our housing…”

“Um, actually, Alluka already canceled it.” This was news. Killua gaped at Gon. “We actually have been looking at different places already… You seemed really overwhelmed with your final project so we didn’t bother you with it! So, I was wondering if you were okay with living with me…”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. And Alluka, right?”

“Well… we actually found two houses for rent next to each other. Alluka wants her own apartment, so that she can have more, uh, _social gatherings_ without bothering you.” He put ‘social gatherings’ in air quotes. “So, it’d be just us. Is that okay?”

“Oh. That is different.” Killua admitted softly. Gon chewed on his lip, waiting for an answer. “So, you wanna move in with me, huh?” He finally said, slyly.

Gon met his gaze. “Yes.”

Killua kissed his best friend under the stars. “I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully all the jumps in time weren't too confusing. Not to toot my own horn but the last sentence can be read in two ways, and both are intended.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for reading!! It feels weird to finally end this but writing it has been a blast. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought. Suggestions, comments, blatant hatred, all welcome!
> 
> Stay safe y’all.


End file.
